


James and Giant Reaper

by honeybee592



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/honeybee592
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles set in Mass Effect 3, from James Vega's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rescuing Admiral Koris. Or, don’t let James near tech.

**Author's Note:**

> Shepard puts James in charge of taking down the control tower when the squad is off rescuing Admiral Koris on Rannoch. 
> 
> "Bewildered, James looked at the control panel and scratched his head. Kaidan was standing right there; he’s the tech expert..."
> 
> Also, I may have taken some liberties with Kaidan's biotics.

**Rescuing Admiral Koris. Or, don’t let James near tech.**

 

James was in his element: M-8 Avenger in hand, shooting shit, popping heat sinks. Those damn Geth Primes took some work, but the three of them hammered them down quickly enough. It was funny, James thought, how the dynamic had changed once Kaidan had rejoined the Normandy. James’d gotten used to taking point, drawing fire, leaving Shepard and Garrus way behind to pop off enemies from a safe distance. Now, more often than not, he had Kaidan on his flank. And, well, it worked pretty nice. If nothing else, his biotics were fucking cool.

The last geth went down in front of him, and he gave it a kick, just to make sure it’d stay down. Kaidan wandered over to the control tower panel, omnitool flashing up. Shepard jogged up beside him.

“One of us needs to take these AA guns offline,” Kaidan turned, addressing Shepard.

“James. Get on it.”

_What?_

He he rubbed his shoulder. “Uh, tech’s not my specialty. But I’ll pull a few wires, see what comes out.”

Bewildered, James looked at the control panel and scratched his head. Kaidan was standing _right there_ ; he’s the tech expert. Already had his omnitool out, had probably already figured out how to disable the tower. James took a second to develop a plan of action. Really, he only had one option.

Okay. Here goes. He shoved the heel of his boot down on the console. The crackle and sizzle of electronics was really quite satisfying. He grinned over his shoulder at Shepard, ignored the sad little shake of her head. Kaidan, he looked mortified. _Lola, if you want a job done properly…_

Shots fired behind them, the three of them ducked simultaneously.

“Hostiles incoming,” Kaidan called from behind a crate.

“Get it down, James. We’ll cover you,” Shepard ordered.

Out the corner of his eye he saw her duck into cover. Damn, she moved quick, blending into the shadows seamlessly. And Kaidan, well, he just glowed blue. Didn’t seem like the greatest tactic, lit up like a Christmas tree, but if it kept the heat off James, he wasn’t about to complain.

He turned back to the console, determined to get this thing offline without getting his head shot off. The sounds of the firefight blended into the background, Shepard and Kaidan’s chatter providing a soundtrack to his work. He tapped some keys on the flicking board. Nothing. Maybe if I… he gave the console another kick. It loosened a panel and he tugged out the exposed wires. Finally, the control panel faded and the tower was offline.

“Yeah! Take that you bastard,” he yelled, revelling in his triumph. He hoisted his assault rifle and turned to help the others finish off the remaining geth. Only to find no hostiles. Just Shepard and Kaidan sitting on a couple of benches, swinging their feet while they waited for him. Kaidan munched on a protein bar like it was an ice cream and they were at the seaside. Shepard grinned.

“Took your time, James.” She teased, jumping down and adjusting her sniper rifle.

He folded his arms over his chest, leaned back and eyed her up. “Like I said. Tech’s not my thing.”

“Well, it’s offline now.” Kaidan jumped down and wandered over to examine James’ handiwork. Bastard had his omnitool up, running some tests. “Let’s just hope we don’t need to get it operational any time soon,” he hedged.

“We won’t. Let’s keep moving.” Shepard clapped James on the shoulder, her warm smile radiating appreciation. Then she turned and led the way.

___

Another god-damned AA gun. _If she orders me--_

“James.” Shepard nodded to the control panel.

“Whatever you say, Lola.” He sighed, treading heavily over to the panel.

“Should be quicker this time.” Kaidan teased. “You know what you’re doing, after all.” Before moving away, he added, quietly, “uh, try the blue wire.”

James just glared at him.

“Kaidan. Leave the poor boy alone and help me out.” Shepard was already in cover, already taking down the advancing geth.

The Major joined her and the combination of his biotics with her shooting would have been fantastic to watch, if James hadn’t been a little preoccupied. A shot whizzed past and he ducked instinctively. _Shit._ Another ricocheted off the tower just above his head. Too close for comfort.

 “ _Por Dios!_ A little protection might be nice”, he yelled, brows furrowed as he jabbed at the controls.

 “Keep cool, Lieutenant. I got you.” Kaidan’s soft tones lilted through James’ comm.

 The effect was immediate, but it had more to do with the barrier the biotic generated, than his words. Still, nice to know someone was thinking of him. With the biotics tingling through his armor, James plugged away. He found a blue wire, gave it a tug, unsure as to whether the Major had been joking or not. _Well, what do you know?_ The gun powered down, the hum dying to silence. James turned, lifted his Avenger, determined to get a shot in this time. One last geth, staggering about just outside of Shepard’s view. One shot, and James had it down.

 “Not just a pretty face, eh Lola?” James called out, smirking at Shepard’s glare.

 “Come on. There’s another AA Gun on the other side.” Shepard moved out. James’ face dropped and Kaidan let out a chuckle.

 “Give the Lieutenant a break, Shepard. I’ve got the next one.” Kaidan said softly, hand on the small of Shepard’s back.

__

 “Hell yeah! This is more like it!” James yelled as he popped a heat sink and peaked out of cover to down another Prime.

 Kaidan was at the AA gun’s controls this time, and James relished having the chance to shoot back at the fuckers shooting at him.

 “Gun’s offline, Commander.” Kaidan’s voice filtered over the comm.

 _Huh?_   “How’d you do that so quick?” James asked, holstering his rifle and joining Kaidan at the console.

 “It helps when you know what you’re doing, Jarhead.” Shepard replied, with a light punch to his shoulder.

 James held his arms out in frustration. “How many times do I have to tell you? Tech is not my thing.”

 “It’s true, Shepard,” Kaidan chimed in. “He doesn’t even know how to put up a simple firewall. His omnitool’s always infected with viruses from those weird extranet sites he visits.”

 James groaned and Shepard laughed. Yeah. It was funny how their dynamic worked. Even if it was at James’ expense.

 


	2. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Shepard had him running ragged. How long could he keep this up? How did she keep this up? Fuck, if this was what N7 was like... He closed his eyes and sighed heavily."

James slumped in his chair in the mess hall. All the coffee and carbs in the world couldn't revive him just yet. He was exhausted. Fucked, even. Hadn't been this exhausted since, well, since he'd done basic. Shepard had him running ragged. How long could he keep this up? How did _she_ keep this up? Fuck, if this was what N7 was like... He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"James. How're you holding up?" _Speak of the devil._ Shepard clapped her hand on James' shoulder, took an empty chair. She looked tired, but not as tired as James felt.

"Uh, fine, Commander." His eyes popped open and he sat up straighter, feigning good health and posture. Didn't look like Shepard believed him.

"You're doing well, James." Her smile was warm. Inviting.

He didn’t have a flirty comeback. No witty remark. So he replied with honesty.

"How d’you do it? How d’you just keep going like this?" The exhaustion poured out through James' voice. He'd been on every single ground side mission since the Reapers had hit Earth. Apart from that one mission with the Major, the rest had been with Garrus. Until Kaidan had returned, anyway. Those two didn't look as fucked as James felt. And they were old soldiers, K and Scars. They were used to this, the speed that Shepard worked at. They weren’t even N7, but they'd been with Shepard from the start. So why did James feel so old?

Shepard leaned back, hands fisted on the table. She eyed him, hard. He looked away, burning with shame but unsure why.

"Someone has to. And that someone is _me_." There was pride in that voice. Defiance.

"Yeah, but-"

"You wanna be N7 James, you gotta do the hard missions." Shepard leaned forward, poked her index finger at James' chest. "That's why I take you everywhere." As she sat back, she added, with a smile, her voice playful, "besides, you'd get into too much trouble if I left you on board."

Shit. She'd been grooming him. This whole time. Even before he'd told her about his N7 commendation. Maybe she’d known. But maybe she'd just seen something in him right from the start. Maybe it was the same thing Anderson'd seen from Fehl Prime. James couldn't see it though. All he saw was failure. And this never ending exhaustion.

"So I hope you've been paying attention." Shepard roused him from his thoughts. He fixed her with a stare. Shit, she was totally psychic, wasn't she?

He stared back at his lap. "N7 can't be as tough as this shit." He whispered, to himself.

Shepard let out a loud laugh, slapping James on the shoulder as she got up.

"We’re fighting a war, soldier. Say, I might let you take the next mission off, how does that sound?"

Her smile looked genuine, but...

"Sounds like a trap, Lola," he hedged.

She just grinned at him, lines at her eyes crinkling, shoulders thrown back. She wandered away in the direction of Liara's office.

"Hey Lola," he called out.

She turned, met his eye.

"I'm ready for anything you throw at me." He stared back, determination coursing through him. "I'm in."

With nod, she seemed to accept his word, and carried on her way.

 


	3. Catch phrases and cosy places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the team under heavy fire, James and Kaidan practice their team work. Meanwhile, Shepard practices her catchphrases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spend a lot of time yelling 'scratch one' at the TV, pushing my ground team out of their cover, and running around like a lunatic looking for spare thermal clips. Good fun. Prime example of N7, right there.

James hunched behind a crate, waiting for the shots to stop so he could pop up and take his turn. This was one helluva fire fight. Could've done with an extra squaddie, really. These Cerberus troops just kept coming and coming. Cannon fodder. _Wonder what their recruiting spiel is. Must have someone even hotter than Shepard on the recruitment posters._

The shots died down, _might take a peek_ \-- then something crashed into him, and he was knocked off balance, onto his side, in a tangle of limbs. Adrenaline surged through him as he fought the urge to panic. Somehow he'd kept hold of his Avenger, and now he lifted it to bring the butt down on whoever, _whatever_ it was who'd taken him out. _Better not be a fucking husk._ Only to meet Shepard's eyes through the visor of her helmet.

"Lola. What the fuck are you doing?" he growled in a half whisper, righting himself.

She knelt up, using James's shoulder to right herself, then unclipped her own Avenger.

"Ran out of thermal clips." She said simply, checking over the rifle, adjusting the ammo, popping the clip that James handed her. "Sorry about the entrance. Can we share the crate?" She smiled sweetly at him.

"Do you even know how to use that thing?" He asked, ignoring her question.

She poked her head around the side of the crate, let off a couple of rounds. A Cerberus soldier crashed face down above them. In a gross display of bad taste, Shepard high-fived the the dead soldier.

"To quote the second best sharpshooter in the galaxy: 'scratch one!'" She grinned and held her hand up for James to high five.

"You gotta be kidding, Lola.” He turned his back to her, committing the terrible sin of leaving her hanging. He needed to concentrate but how could he do that with her right next to him? Apart from anything else, it didn’t feel right having her so close to the action. She should be further back, safely out of the main fight. It’s not like she couldn’t take care of herself, but something in James always twinged when she got up into the thick of things.

James leaned out, made his shots, _and what fine work, too,_ and ducked back to safety.

_“Cover me.” Shepard said from behind him._

__What?_ _ “Lola --” He started, then she was running, headed towards another crate, firing arbitrarily -- or maybe not so arbitrarily, given the agent that just fell down in front of her -- sliding to a halt, back against the crate.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled through his comm. “Get back here!” _It’s not safe._

“And who do you think you are, giving orders to a superior officer?” She called back, not upset at all.

He could swear she was grinning at him as she raised her left hand behind her head, picked something up from the top of the crate, waved it at him, then pocketed it. More thermal clips. She ran all this way for some fucking clips. He had more in his pockets. _If she’d just waited, I could’ve…_ His thought came to an abrupt halt as he stared at Shepard: she stood up, back still to the enemy, before going completely invisible. A shiver went down his spine. Seeing her, or not, as the case may be, using her tactical cloak freaked him out. There were geth that had a similar thing, and a bolt of fear always went through him when one de-cloaked too close to him. He liked to know where the enemy was. Usually a shot from Shepard wasn’t too far away, but it scared the shit out of him none the less.

The ground crunched next to him, and something shoved his head on its way past.

“Good work. Keep it up, soldier.” Shepard said, invisible.

A minute later and she was back in the game. James could tell: the enemy were dropping fast, and it wasn’t all due to him or Kaidan.  
___

James had ducked back into cover to reload when Kaidan dove over from a neighbouring crate. At least this time James saw the crash coming, and braced himself for impact. Their armor clashed but he stayed steady.

“Lieutenant,” Kaidan nodded, righting himself.

“Major,” James replied.

“Ran out of clips,” he explained, with a hint of mischief in his voice. Bastard must have heard James’ conversation with Shepard over the comm.

What was it with thermal clips today? James glared back at him. He’d only just gotten this crate back to himself. It’d been bad enough sharing with Shepard, but Kaidan was just that wee bit bigger and things were getting a bit too snug for his liking.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the company, but couldn’t you just reave the fuckers from over there?” James asked, passing some extra clips Kaidan’s way, then taking some shots while he had the chance.

“Yeah, I could’ve,” Kaidan replied in his lilting way. “But I thought, why not take this opportunity to develop our team-work?”

 _You sure pick your moments, K._ When James didn’t reply, Kaidan continued, “I’ll freeze ‘em, you shoot ‘em.”

That actually sounded pretty reasonable. Anyway, Shepard had been harping at him to ‘play nicely’ with the Major. James did play nicely. He was just a bit jealous of the history the Major and the Commander shared. But James had gotten used to having the biotic on his flank. They’d teamed up like this before and it sure made for a fun show. Plus it was nice knowing he wasn’t out there on his own. Kinda got lonely when it was just him, with Scars and Shepard at his back.

The pair quickly got into a good rhythm, Kaidan hitting the enemy with a cryoblast, and James shooting the shit out of them before they’d even slowed to a stop. And Kaidan proved himself to be not so bad with an assault rifle, either; taking shots in between the tech cooldown. Shepard called out over the comm at one point, something about ‘bag ‘em and tag ‘em.’ Kaidan and Shepard shared a laugh, a private joke that pulled at James’ heart; a reminder that he was very much still the new boy.

Only a couple of guys left now. Kaidan’s omnitool flashed orange. The soldier froze solid, then shattered as James shot him. One left: a Guardian. Those shields were a pain in the ass.

“Make room, boys” Shepard called over the comm, before rolling in and making a somewhat dignified entrance. At least this time she stayed on her feet. “Huh. Pretty cosy here.” She smiled, glancing at each man. She was squished between James and Kaidan, armor rubbing at the shoulders and hips as she fiddled with her sniper rifle.

“Let me guess. Out of clips?” James asked flatly.

“Almost.” She activated her cloak again, kneeled up and rested her arm on the crate, steading her rifle. “Got one shot left, and it’s going between the eyes.”

“You can’t take out a Guardian, Shepard, not with that ammo.” Kaidan scolded. The Guardian advanced slowly, just out of range for his biotics.

“Watch me."

And they did. They both held their fire, poked their heads around either side of the crate. The Guardian lumbered forward, shots firing wildly in their direction. A bang rang out from above them. It felt like time slowed as the shield dropped to the ground, bouncing once, twice, followed by the soldier, knees hitting the ground, arms raised, gun falling from a limp grip, till finally the.torso fell forward, hitting the earth with a silent finality.

“Scoped and dropped!” Shepard whooped as she dropped back down.

“Mail slot! Nailed it, Commander,” James held his hand up for the high five, and Shepard returned it with a resounding clap. He had to hand it to her, she sure was the best in the galaxy.

Kaidan leaned back, chuckling, “gotta get your own catchphrase, Commander.”

Shepard clapped him on the shoulder, returning his grin.

“I should go.”

With that, she stood and made her way through the cleared out field, picking up all the clips she could.


	4. Little Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Down in the docks, James meets up with one of Shepard's old crew members.

James wandered towards the elevator with bounce to his step. A good afternoon’s work down in the docks, his credit chit metaphorically heavy in his pocket. Sure, he felt a bit bad fleecing refugees, but it went both ways. Not like he won _all_ the time. Especially when Shepard was around. That woman had bad juju, completely killed his poker mojo. Still, he looked forward to bragging to her once he got back on board the ship: full pockets _and_ he still had his shirt.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant Vega?” a female voice called out.

James turned to find the source, doing a double take when a petite wee red-head caught his eye and gave a small wave.

“That’s me, ma’am.” He flashed a very Vega grin and joined her off the concourse.

“My name’s Kelly Chambers.” She was tiny. Tiner than Shepard. Her hand engulfed in his as they shook hands.

“I served with Shepard when she took down the Collectors.” Kelly explained.

A pang shot through James’ heart. Here was another link to Shepard’s past that he’d never be part of. However, this link _did_ involve a picnic in the Collector Base.

Kelly explained how Shepard had been wandering through the docks not too long ago, “helping strangers, like she does,” when she’d spotted Kelly. They’d caught up. Kelly no longer with Cerberus, “on the run, more like.”

James stood there listening to her babbling on about Shepard and Cerberus. Couldn’t figure out why she wanted to talk to him so badly. Not that he didn’t appreciate it; he just didn’t get it. Seemed like all this was leading somewhere… Didn’t matter, Little Red was cute.

“Shepard said I should talk to you. You know what it’s like to have, to be,” the way she wrung her hands together and stumbled over her words would have been adorable if it wasn’t obvious how uncomfortable she was. 

“Shepard was out on a mission when the Collectors boarded the Normandy. They captured the crew, took us all back to their ship. If Shepard hadn’t come for us…” She trailed off, eyes welling up, but with that grateful smile that so many people had when they spoke about what Shepard had done for them.

So that was it. Little Red had been abducted by the Collectors. James’ heart sank. A shudder went through him as he crossed his arms over his chest; desperately holding down his own memories of being in a Collector ship.

“She said you’d been--” She started before James cut her off.

“Yeah. I've been there.” He didn’t mean to be so short, but he didn’t want to think about it. About little April in that pod.

Maybe it was just as well he’d not been with Shepard back then. But, if he had, he’d’ve been on the winning side. She’d rescued everyone, come back from a fucking _suicide mission_ without losing anyone. Hadn’t let the Collectors take her crew. Her friends. Put in the same place, James had failed. The Fehl Prime colonists, his squad, his CO, all of them. Gone. For nothing.

“Sorry, it’s still pretty raw.” He mumbled at the ground, toeing a piece of rubbish.

“Do, do you have nightmares, too?” She hedged.

James glanced up, caught her eyes wide with distress, like she could see his nightmares too. He shifted, looking everywhere but at her, like if he didn’t meet her eyes, she couldn’t get in and he could keep the pain from escaping.

“I do.” She offered, when he remained silent. “Every night. Those pods. I can see the crew, other people, colonists, just normal people, being turned into paste.”

“Please, don’t,” he choked out. He’d had those same nightmares for months after Fehl Prime. The faces of colonists, his unit, Captain Toni. All trapped in pods, frozen in terror. Every night for months he re-lived being dumped in one of those pods too, ready to be subsumed, dissolved into Reaper paste. Every night he fought his way out, fought his way to Treeya, stumbling over the semi-organic insides of the ship. He relived his choice, too: save the colonists, or save Treeya and the intel. _That’s a tough call_ , Shepard had replied when he’d told her. Tough call all right. The sort of call Shepard made every day.

“Being on that collector ship, I’d rather be covered in a thousand husks.” He managed a bitter chuckle. “And I hate husks.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just thought, well, Shepard. She has a way with people, you know?” Kelly smiled, clapping a hand on James’s arm.

“She sure does.” He replied with a half-smile and a huff. He was eager to change the subject. Talk about a mutual interest that didn’t involve beady, buggy eyes and dripping, humid, stinking, claustrophobic tunnels.

“So, what was she like back then? Shepard, I mean.” James didn’t get to hear about that time so much. Garrus and Tali only said so much. Joker just joked about the leather seats. Chakwas stuck to professional silence. Maybe everyone was trying to suppress the memories. Those days can’t have been fun. And working with Cerberus, knowing what they did, how they operated. How could the old team have kept a clean conscience knowing all that? Despite being pissed at him at first, he understood Kaidan’s reaction, why he didn’t join Shepard. Fuck, that was a tough call too. James doubted he could’ve made the same one. Shit, he’d’ve followed Shepard to hell and back. For all he knew, that’s where this war was taking them.

“She was angry. Determined.” Kelly started. “For a long time she was just furious at everyone and everything. I’d heard so much about her, heard how she’d taken down Sovereign, saved the Citadel. But this person? At first I didn’t think it was actually her. That maybe Cerberus, Miranda, had made a mistake. Brought the wrong person back to life, or, I don’t know, crossed a wire or something. The only person she got on with was Joker. But even then, she didn’t seem right. It was only once Garrus joined us that I first saw her smile.” Kelly grinned at that, “she’s got such a wonderful smile.” She added, wistfully, eyes focusing in the middle distance.

“Sounds like someone’s got a little crush.” James smirked. He knew what that was like.  
“Of course! How can anyone not like her?” Kelly flashed a grin and a wink.

The Illusive Man, for one. The Batarians. Any mercenaries that stood in her way.

“How’s she doing, Lieutenant?” Kelly asked, voice soft, full of concern. She obviously cared a lot for the Commander.

“Fine. Good. She smiles a lot, despite all the shit going on.” James answered. Though that wasn’t exactly the truth. She smiled when she had him on the floor of the shuttle bay, blood trickling down their noses and lips. She smiled when she nailed a headshot from a hundred and fifty meters. She smiled when Wrex came on board, when Grunt greeted her with the title ‘Battlemaster’. Yeah she smiled a lot, but saying she was fine?

“She looks after us. Not sure she looks after herself though.” He added. If she wasn’t in the war room, she was wandering the decks, talking to her crew, listening to their concerns, suggestions, reflections.

“Yeah, that sounds like Shepard.” Kelly’s eyes twinkled. “When I saw her before, she seemed happier. More herself.”

“Sounds like you know a lot about what goes on in people’s heads.” James said.  
Kelly gave a short laugh. It was cute. “Well, I was the resident psychologist, as well as Shepard’s personal assistant.”

Huh. Well that explained a lot.

Conversation drifted to other things. What Kelly was up to, how she was helping the refugees. How dismal and desperate people were getting. What the front line action was like. Those side trips Hackett sent Shepard on. The ones that James really didn’t think were necessary for stopping the Reapers, and getting back to Earth until Shepard explained how the Alliance _needed_ this communications system, or that ally. They made comparisons about the Normandy, what changes the Alliance had made. 

“Has she managed to keep her fish alive?” Kelly asked, eyes glittering. 

James chuckled. “Yeah. She loves those things. Dropped 25,000 creds on a VI to do the work for her.” 

They both shook their heads in disbelief. Absorbed in their own thoughts of what Shepard had done for them, what she’d done for the galaxy.

“Well, Lieutenant. I should get going.” Kelly finally said.

“Please, James is fine.” He replied, voice low, sultry.

“Okay. Take care of yourself, _James_ ”, she said, cocking her hip out and dropping a sultry note over his name. Then, with sincerity, “and Shepard too.” She shook his hand again, that warm smile washing over him.

“You too, Little Red.”

Now that giggle was adorable.


	5. Jelly roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Shepard confuse Garrus with innuendo. 
> 
> This kind of might be a bit nsfw.
> 
> Contains a teensy bit of Shega.

These two have been at this all day. Garrus has no idea what is going on, but he’s pretty sure it’s dirty. He flicks his mandibles in frustration. James has just made some comment about a “growler”, whatever that is, and it’s got Shepard in stitches.

“Shut up, Vega. I can’t hold it steady,” she giggles.

“That’s what  _she_  said.” James replies with a laugh.

Who said what? Shepard? Hold what steady? Clearly something other than her Vindicator, given the amount of giggling.

The trio are down some wretched hole on Utukku. Grunt’s around somewhere, commanding his own team, his own krantt. Good on him. Great to see the boy all grown up. Afterall, puberty hadn’t been kind to the young krogan.

As usual, Jimmy’s taking point, drawing fire while Garrus and Shepard plink away from a safe distance. Not easy in these tunnels but the team’s nothing if not resourceful. Shepard’s let Jimmy loose with all these Firestorms just lying about and now the man’s even more like a human-krogan hybrid; giggling away while he sets husks and spore pods on fire. Ah, so much like Grunt.  _Wonder what Jimmy’s right-of-passage was like_ _._  Human customs were different to krogan, of course, but every race, every culture had some way of signifying the transition to adulthood. And, just like Shepard was Battlemaster to the young krogan, she’s now Battlemaster to James. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look just how much James looks up to Shepard. Tali agrees. They’ve talked about it. At length.

James burns the last swarmer that dares to make an advance, whooping with delight.

“As I’m sure Joker would say, those are some ‘mad skills’ you’ve got there, Jimmy.” Garrus lilts over the comm, actually impressed at how the marine is handling the glorified flame thrower.

“Second that.” Shepard calls out.

“Thanks Scars, that means a lot.” James replies. “Hey, Lola, “ he adds, voice low, “That’s not the only skill I’ve got.”

Garrus notices the pause, braces for another quip that’s sure to go above his head.

“I can also roll my tongue.”

___

The last Cannibal goes down with a horrid squelch and the hall’s empty. For now. They can all take a breather. James yanks his helmet off, breathing fresh(ish) air at last. Perched against a rock, he runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. He’s making some sort of gesture back up at the two snipers. Garrus can’t quite tell what he’s doing so he pops his rifle to his eye, peers down the scope. Vega’s made a V with his index and middle finger, pressed them to his lips, stuck his tongue out, and is waggling it up and down.

Beside him, Shepard bursts into laughter, the sound peeling through the comm in his helmet.

____

Will these damn tunnels never end? The smell of burnt husks, crisped pods, the occasional rotting krogan and the general decay is getting a bit much. Garrus wrinkles his nose as he stares down his scope. Shit. There’s a husk on Jimmy’s flank, dangerously close. Quickly and calmly, he takes the shot and the husk goes down, an outstretched hand just stroking Jimmy’s greave.

“Much appreciated, Scars.” James huffs over the comm.

James takes his chance, makes a run forward, following Shepard’s orders to a rock further up the tunnel. As he rolls into position, he glances back, double checking that someone’s still covering his flank. Shepard’s got it covered.

“Lookin’ forward to some jelly roll when we get back, Lola.” James called over the comm, breathing hard.

“You know the rules, Vega.” Shepard replied. “No dessert till you’ve had your mains.”

“And here I was hoping we’d skip straight to dessert.” He grumbled.

The tone of Vega’s voice, the playful lilt to the protest, led Garrus to suspect that the pair weren’t talking about anything that’d be served in the mess hall.

_____

It’d been touch and go down there, but they were out, and with a Rachni Queen as a war asset. Unbelievable. Garrus and James leaned against a big rock outside the entrance to the tunnel, covered in rachni-reaper gore; Shepard chatting to Steve at the shuttle; Grunt munching on emergency rations.

“Happy as a pig in shit.” Garrus says to James, nodding to Grunt, mandibles flicking.

“Yeah, you got it, Scars. You’re getting good.” James chuckled.

Well at least he understood  _some_  human idioms.

“Come on gentlemen, move out. Grunt, you can eat on board.” Shepard called out from the shuttle.

James makes a move, opens his mouth to speak, but Shepard cuts him off.

“You too, James.”

Again, flummoxed. Garrus eyes them both, glancing from one to the other as he walks with James back to the shuttle. From the swagger in James’ step, Garrus again suspects Shepard’s not talking about food. And after the kiss James gives her, he’s pretty sure it’s best if he’s left in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if 'growler' means the same thing to Americans as it does to Kiwis, Aussies, and Brits. Urban Dictionary was surprisingly, er, reticent?


	6. Biotibal rage fest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Digging deep into the James Vega tag on Tumblr, I found someone asking for James and Shep watching a game and yelling at each other.
> 
> This is them yelling at each other, while Steve fears for his safety.

This was scarier than flying into a hot LZ. But instead of dodging bullets and targeted missiles, Steve was dodging insults and beer caps. Granted, most of them were directed at the vid screen, but still…

Steve knew James took his biotiball seriously. They’d watched plenty when they were stationed at together, sharing in the joy and despair that came from following their favourite teams, arguing about form, (and  _form_ ) while drinking more than a little cerveza. But until now, Steve didn’t know just how seriously Shepard took her biotiball—

“Foul ball! Fucking shit,” she cried.

The normally controlled, restrained, paragon Shepard hurled profanities at the screen with all the enthusiasm of the marine twice her size sitting next to her. They were more alike than they dared to admit.

 “What is this shit?” Shepard jumped up and yelled at the screen.

“Legal play, Lola, nothing wrong there.” James chimed in, quite happy with the play.

“Nuh-uh. Fucker was out.” She sat back down, harumphing, arms crossed in disgust.

While this was a goodwill match between the Seattle Sorcerers and the Usaru Maestroes, there was definitely no goodwill between these two marines. Shepard had backed the Sorcerers, and unfortunately, they were losing.

“You said they’d give it their all.” James grinned. “Not going so well for you now, hey Commander.” He was clearly enjoying himself.

“Fuck off, Vega.” She shot back. “Ah, shit, and  _fuck you_  too! This is bull shit.” She shrieked like a banshee at the screen again.

Steve inched his way down the couch, just to stay out of range of  flailing limbs.

He would’ve escaped at half time, on the pretence of going to the bathroom, but for three reasons. First, and most important, was the bet with James. He needed to hang around to make sure James didn’t wheedle his way out of paying up if,  _when_  he lost. Second, when Shepard had called the shuttlebay to tell James to haul ass ‘cause the feed had arrived, she ordered Steve to join them ‘cause he “needed some damn downtime.” Finally, despite being dragged from his work, he actually wanted to watch this match. He loved biotiball. Loved a good display of biotics that didn’t involve ripping people apart.

“Yes, T’Sanis! Perfect,  _chica_.” James cheered.

The Asari’s stunning pass, a beautiful display of biotics (that she surely would’ve appreciated if the circumstances were different) had Shepard groaning as a Sorcerer was unceremoniously dumped ass up.

James guffawed, swigging on his beer, finishing it off in a gulp. He nodded his head in Steve’s direction, waggling his eyebrows and the empty bottle. Steve interpreted this as a request for another bottle, and threw one over.

“Cheers, Esteban.” James cracked the cap, “ah, shit, no way!” His turn to yell.

Shepard whooped, pumping a fist in the air, stamping her feet on the floor.

“Yeah, that’s how its done.” She shoved James’ shoulder. Hard. “Your blue beauties aren’t so hot now, LT.”

The score now level: 66-all. As much as he wanted the Sorcerers to win, Steve kinda hoped the match would end in a draw. If the Maestroes won, James would be gloating for days; an extra swagger in his step, extra pull in his chin-ups. He wouldn’t let Shepard live it down. And if the Sorcerers won, the shuttle bay would be a dark, depressing place. James could sulk for days. No, Steve would rather drop the jarhead into a waiting crowd of husks than deal with the man-child currently yelling at the screen.

“ _Mierde_! You’re blind, ref!”

James, up on his feet, paced two steps left, then two steps right, nostrils flaring, huffing with barely contained frustration. Shepard stood beside him, arms tightly folded, brows furrowed, concentrating. Last play of the match, and if the Sorcerers pulled it off, they’d win.

With a quiet hiss that went unnoticed by the pair on their feet, the doors to the lounge opened. Steve caught Kaidan’s eye as he paused mid-stride, half in, half out the room, eyebrow raised. He must have sensed Steve’s desperate, silent plea, because he merely shot the pilot an apologetic smile before turning on his heels and escaping. The door closed softly behind him, enclosing Steve in his prison.

“Come on, you fuckers. Come on.” Shepard chanted under her breath.

“No! No no no,” James cried, hands on head.

“Yes! C’mon Rogers!” Steve yelled, on his feet now too, grinning at James and Shepard’s dumbstruck looks at his late entry to the excitement.

The negative and affirmative yells from the three of them, the tones of joy and despair mingled into one cacophony filling the lounge. Beer left forgotten on the table as the Sorcerers nailed the final play, winning the match.

As James slumped back down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest staring glumly at the screen, Shepard and Steve shared a two handed high five, their hands meeting above James’ head with a resounding clap.

“How about that, Mr Vega?” Steve laughed giving his buddy a playful shove. Then, with all the seriousness of a merc demanding his cut, “now pay up.”

James muttered a string of profanities as he made the transaction.

“Hey, what’s the deal? You guys betting without me?” Shepard asked.

“We weren’t exactly betting on who’d win.” James answered, still dejected. It fell to Steve to explain.

“We were betting on if you’d pick the winner.” He said with a smile. “And everyone knows, you don’t bet against Shepard.” He gave James another shove.

“Yeah, yeah.” James muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Commander.” Joker’s voice rang out over the comm. “We’re sixty minutes from Thessia.”

“Thanks Joker.” Shepard replied. “James, you gonna suck it up and get suited, or sit in the shuttle bay and sulk?” She asked, up and halfway to the door.

“Suit up, ma’am.” James stood tall, cracking his neck. “Gonna shoot a fucking reaper in the face. Uh, if they have faces.”

Steve smiled to himself: James could switch from upset puppy to fighting dog in a heartbeat. The man was a soldier, his body just as much of a weapon as his Avenger.

Shepard grinned. No doubt she wanted to shoot a reaper in the face, too.

“Steve, prep the shuttle. Joker, tell Liara to suit up, too, please.”

“Aye aye Ma’am.” Joker replied, voice tinny over the comm. “Oh, and Vega, don’t think I wasn’t watching the match. You owe me, too.”

“ _Mierde_ ,” James shook his head as Steve and Shepard laughed, leaving the comfort of the lounge to return to the reality of the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have any DLC, but I do have YouTube.


	7. A date with Blasto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Shepard go on a date. Maybe. It's hard to tell.

Is this a date? It kinda felt like a date. James, in his clean tee, smelling shower fresh with a hint of cologne. But: Shepard in the same BDUs she’d been wearing for three days straight, smelling not quite so fresh. They’d gone out for dinner before, though. Sort of. James had waited patiently at the burger joint, nursing his beer as the agreed upon time came and went. He may not be the type to check his messages every thirty seconds, but he did check the time, just once or twice. Eventually engaging a cute Asari in small talk until she propositioned him, leaving him backpedaling fast while refraining from bragging about his date with Commander Shepard.

Shepard arrived eventually with a flurry of apologies, a wild grin and wilder hair, catching the eye of a disgruntled Asari at the bar.

He didn’t care that the burgers had been downed in ten quick minutes, with any flirting time cut back to chewing time. All that mattered was Shepard. She was here now. Standing next to him. And they were bickering over who’d pay for the movie tickets. The attendant leaned on the counter, staring at the opposite wall, bored.

Shepard punched James in the shoulder,  _hard_ , catching him off balance to thrust her credit chit at the attendant.

“I’ll get them,” she growed out.

He hadn’t been on a date in a while, but James was pretty sure they didn’t involve this level of violence. He massaged his sore shoulder, sure it would bruise. Fuck, she hit hard. He wondered just how he’d gotten into this maybe-date in the first place.

Oh yeah, one friendly suggestion at the mess table. Esteban had pounced on it. Then Kaidan. Then Scars. James left with the distinct feeling that he’d been set up.

 

_____

James rounded the corner of the mess, catching Steve’s eye.  _Just the man I’m looking for._

“Esteban, amigo, wanna catch the new Blasto movie when we hit the Citadel?” James asked, taking a free seat next to the Major.

“You asking me on a date, Mr Vega?” Steve laughed.

“Sure. Why not. We’ll get dressed up. I’ll wine you and dine you. Get a massive bag of popcorn, share a soda, make out at the back.”

Garrus flicked his mandibles. “Sounds awful. A date with Jimmy. Who in the galaxy would want that?”

“Oh, I can think of someone,” Steve said. James shot him a withering look.

“I dunno. Sounds pretty good.” Kaidan started. “I remember those days, sneaking in, making out in the back row. Completely missed the movie, of course. But that’d hardly been the point.” He chuckled at his reminiscence. Then flushed pink as three pairs of eyes turned on him.

“So, is that a no?” James asked Steve, “‘cause if it is, K seems pretty keen to relive his youth.” He elbowed Kaidan, adding in a low voice, “Just so you know, I only go to second base on a first date.”

Kaidan stuttered, blanched, about to explain himself when their Commanding Officer wandered in, saving him.

“Gentlemen.” She said by way of greeting. “What’s got Alenko the colour of a varren’s belly?”

“Mr Vega here is looking for a date when we get to the Citadel.” Steve explained.

“Ooh, new Blasto?” She asked, all bright eyed.

“Yeah, that’s it, Lola.” James laughed, pleased they thought the same way..

“Dinner’s on offer, wine too. No doubt his own version of ‘charming conversation.’” Garrus chimed in.

“And you’ve all turned down our poor Lieutenant, huh?” She eyed the three men before her gaze settled on the LT in question. He returned her smirk with an innocent schoolboy grin. “Can’t have you going stag, James. It’s a date. I’ll pick you up at seven,” she grinned, giving his head a playful shove as she left.

Now James flushed pink. Kaidan elbowed him back. Garrus hummed in amusement. And Steve leaned back, arms crossed, satisfied as hell.

“You fuckers,” James huffed.

_______

With minimal argument they took a couple of seats in the middle, near the back of the theatre. Shepard rubbed the spot where she’d hit him; almost lovingly.

“Sorry. But you were being too damn stubborn. You’d already bought the burgers.”

“I’m  _trying_  to be a gentleman.” He explained with mock hurt.

“And they say chivalry is dead.” She rolled her eyes and settled down.

James did the same, knee carefully positioned so it’d knock against hers when he turned to speak to her. Leaning on the armrest, his shoulder just brushing hers, he eyed the near empty theatre, then Shepard.

“Hey, would you look at that. We’ve got the place to ourselves,” his voice low, hinting at something other than just watching the movie.

“Good. Less chance of me killing someone.”

James snapped back, surprised at the vehemence in her voice. But Shepard flashed a grin, patting his leg.

“Don’t worry, I probably won’t stab you,” she said brightly, giving him a gentle bump on his sore shoulder. “Only the fuckers who dare to talk once the movie starts.”

James remained unconvinced. She may be out of her armour, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t packing. Hell,  _he_  had a pistol tucked away, just in case. And anyway, her ‘tool packed one helluva omniblade. He started to reassess this whole maybe-date, and Shepard’s sanity. This war was taking its toll.

Easing himself into a comfortable position, he glanced at Shepard. She stifled a yawn, catching it in her hand before closing her eyes for longer than a blink. A smart comment stuck in his throat as trumpets started blaring and the screen lit up. He whipped his head around to the front, skin prickling with fright; then he chanced a peek back at the woman next to him, unsure if adverts and trailers counted towards a potential stabbing.  _Best be quiet, just in case._

Finally, Blasto burst on to the screen, and James felt himself relaxing, his broad frame easing into the whole of his seat. Such proximity to others usually annoyed him— the constantly rubbing shoulders with strangers was the price he paid for being a such a slammin’ hot slab of beef— but with his favourite woman by his side, he couldn’t care less. In fact, this might almost be his heaven.

James winced as Shepard jabbed his forearm, forgetting that he’d already claimed the arm rest. If this were a real date, he’d casually slip his arm up and over her shoulder. But it probably wasn’t a date, so he moved just enough so they could share. She smiled up at him, blue eyes shining in the light of the screen. Bumping her knee, he fixed her with a sultry smile. Unable to make the first move, his hand remained on his own leg, sweating from the tension, the butterflies in his stomach desperate to fly out. Shepard slumped back into her seat, leaning her head against James’ still aching shoulder. It pulsed in time with his heart. Damn, just how hard had she punched him?

Halfway through the movie, Shepard still leant against him. She hadn’t jumped at the explosions, or sucked in her breath at Blasto taking a hit to the balls. Wait, do hanarhave balls? She hadn’t even laughed at “Coquettishly: That’s right baby. Tell me your soul name.” She hadn’t moved. At all. Glancing down, all he could see was the top of her head and an inch of brow. Then she sighed heavily, turning into him slightly, rubbing her cheek on his arm. Her eyes were closed. Asleep. She’s asleep! Damn, she must have been tired if she’d managed to fall asleep through all this noise. James returned his attention to the screen, a smirk playing across his lips and a knot in his belly from how adorable she looked and how right she felt.

He stayed sitting right where he was, all the way to the end of the credits. Shepard still asleep against him.

“Lola.” He whispered, nudging her. Nothing. “C’mon Lola. Wake up. Time to get back to the ship.” Pulling away just enough to unbalance her, she snapped up, eyes blinking rapidly.

“What the,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, looking around, then up at James. “Shit. Did I fall asleep? Sorry.”

“Hey, no problem Lola. You must’ve needed it.” He nudged her. “I’m just glad you paid for the tickets.”

Out on the concourse, they both stretched, Shepard pulling her arms high above her head, leaning back, popping her joints. Wandering back in the direction of the elevator, closer together than colleagues but not as close as lovers, James filled Shepard in with the more salient scenes from the movie. His Blasto impression right on form as he used his brand new pickup line:  _Has a prothean descended from heaven, because this one would enjoy enkindling that._

 

“Where to now, James?” she asked, still sleepy, entering the elevator.

“Well, I’ve got this great place down at docking bay D24.” He smirked. “Coffee’s shit but the company’s pretty good.” He waved his hand down the length of his body, indicating just who was on offer. With his good shoulder, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, all casual, pushing the button for the docking bays.

“James Vega. Are you inviting me back to your quarters?” Shepard asked, all coy, giving him a gentle shoulder barge. It had all the effect of shoving a brick wall.

“I dunno Lola. I kinda had your cabin in mind. Hard to invite a girl back to shared bunks, y’know? And there’s no way two of us can fit in a sleeper pod.” He winked, returning the nudge.

“You’re such a tease, Vega.” Shepard reached over, pushed a button on the elevator panel. “But I gotta get some Spectreing done,” the elevator doors opened on the embassy level.

“Lola. Really? It’s the middle of the night. You gotta chill out.” James pleaded, all pretense of chivalry forgotten as he reached for her hand.

Shepard turned, fixing James with a half smile and sad eyes, clasping his hand between both of hers.

“War doesn’t sleep, James.” She sighed, “ and this. This was a…” she let got of his hand, looked anywhere but at him. Those big blue eyes and that sad half smile sent pangs straight through his heart. Things had been going so well. What’d he done wrong? Maybe he should’ve pushed the elevator button a little less sexually. Fucking reapers cockblocking his fucking date.  _Maybe_ -date.

“Later.” She gave a little wave and that half smile as the elevator door closed, returning James, alone, to his great place at docking bay D24. Later. That could mean ‘we’ll talk later’, or ‘another time’,  or it could just mean ‘I’ll see you later.’ Her tone hadn’t made it obvious. He leaned back, closing his eyes and knocking his head against the wall in defeat.

_____

With the doors firmly closed and the elevator on its way, Shepard shook herself. “Snap out of it, Shepard,” she muttered to herself, “he’s your fucking subordinate.”  _Your Lieutenant. Your Arms Master. Your N7 recruit. Not some piece of meat. Some fucking fling._  She turned on her heel, marching towards the Spectre office while trying not to think about stupid James with his stupid flirting and his stupid grin and those stupid brown eyes that just made her melt everytime he looked at her.  _Later_ , she’d said. What’d she meant by that? Could mean anything. Could mean ‘see me tomorrow‘, or ‘next week.’ Might even mean ‘after the war’s over.’ Or maybe it just meant ‘I’ll see you later.’  _Fuck it_. She slammed her fist on the door lock, flicking it green. No getting any work done, she knew that. But she’d at least give herself a chance to cool off before returning to her cabin. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sat on this for a long while. It’s missing something. Too loose; needs tightening. But I’m posting it anyway ‘cause I don’t have an editor at my beck and call and it doesn’t matter that I’m not Ernest Hemingway.)


	8. Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard gives James a lesson on killing chickens. He's not quite up to the task. 
> 
> If you DON’T want to share James’ horror of wasted egg potential, then don't read this. Though it does have a happy ending. Kinda. 
> 
> (It describes the chicken killing method taught to me by my hippy family)
> 
> YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

 

“I can’t do it, Shepard. You can’t make me.” James shoved the chicken back into the crate.

“Come on James, you can. Just like this.” With her left hand, Shepard held the back legs of her chicken. The first two fingers of her right hand held the back of the head, thumb curled under the beak. Then she tipped the head back and stretched the chicken with both hands. A small pop, then a few seconds of twitching and flapping. The bird hung limp in her hand. She dumped it on his workbench. _Great. Thanks._

He crossed his arms, took a step back, feeling a little sick. They’d found these chickens on some backwater planet this morning. Shepard had licked her lips on discovering them after crashing through an old farm yard that’d been destroyed by thresher maws. Made him and Kaidan run around catching them.

“We can’t keep them, Shepard.” Kaidan had said. “The _Normandy’s_ a frigate. Not a liveship.”

“Hey hey, Major. Don’t be too hasty _mi amigo_. Haven’t had real eggs in a long while.” Just the thought of making huevos rancheros with _real_ eggs had James salivating. But it looked like the Commander had other plans.

She reached into the crate, pulled another one out, handed it to James. “Hold it by the legs.”

James took another step back, shaking his head. Then the elevator doors opened and he was saved. For the moment.

“Shepard. Jimmy. Are these the fabled ‘chickens’ I’ve heard so much about?” Garrus asked, wandering over.

“The very same.” Shepard replied. “Most tasty thing in the galaxy.” She held the chicken up, eyeing it. It squarked and flapped.

“Huh. A dinosaur thing. That’s what all the fuss is about?” Garrus poked a tallon at the chicken’s head. “What’s eating him?” He nodded to James.

“He’s too much of a _chicken_ to kill a chicken.” Shepard explained.

“James. Really?”

Great. Now he’d earned Scars’ disappointment too.

Garrus shook his head. “You punch husks to death. Hell, I saw you stick your omni-blade right through the neck of a Centurion just the other day.” He took the chicken from Shepard, turned its head carefully, contemplated the beady eyes. “But you can’t snap the neck of this little thing?” At the flick of his wrist the chicken flopped about, then went limp.

James flinched as Garrus dumped it next to its friend. _Two down. Four to go. No eggs for me._

“Husks and shit are running at me! They want to kill me! I’ve got no option but to kill them. These guys, they haven’t done anything to me.” He nodded at the dead chickens on his bench.

“Well, if you’re not gonna kill them, you gotta help me pluck them.” Shepard picked one up, swished it around in the bucket of hot water next to James’ bench. While the lifeless body dripped water onto the floor, she hooked a looped rope around the legs, pulled tight, fixed the other end over James’ pull-up bar. _It just gets better and better_. With nimble fingers, the brown feathers slowly came out, revealing pocked skin.

 _Okay. I can do this._ Gingerly, he picked up the other chicken, blanching at the lifeless flopping. He copied Shepard’s actions, soaking the bird, making the loop, hanging it up. With a tail feather pinched between his thumb and forefinger, he pulled. Just like that it came out. _Shit, this is easy._ He pulled more, letting the feathers float to the floor of the shuttlebay. _Like plucking chest hairs._ _But without the sting._ Before long, both chickens hung featherless.

“Looking edible now, huh?” Shepard grinned at James. At his nod, she gave him an encouraging shoulder pat. “Now we gutt them,” she said, eyes full of glee as she flashed her omniblade up. “Watch and learn, rookie.”

With one quick swipe, the head came off and blood poured onto the floor. Once the flow stopped, she carefully took it off the rope, lay it front-up on the bench. Another chop and the feet detached from the body. Holding one hand over the neck hole, she pushed one leg up to the wing, then pulled back. She repeated the action with the other leg. The loose skin allowed her to cut through to the guts and around to the tail. James mimicked her actions. This didn’t make him queasy at all. Funny that. Garrus watched from the sidelines, fascinated.

“Wish you could get in on this action, Scars?” James asked, wielding his own omniblade with all the confidence of a butcher, instead of the soldier he was.

“Looks better than dextro paste, that’s for sure.”

“James. Pay attention.” Shepard chided. “You gotta rip the guts out. Like this. Get your fingers in at the top, under the breastbone.” With one hand holding the chicken in place, she eased her other up the hole she’d cut and scooped out the oogly bits in one swift movement.

“Mmmm. Guts. Garrus, bucket.” Shepard grinned, dumping the grey-brown ooze into the bucket with a slop. Then she dug about in the bucket. “Gotta keep the heart. Barbequed chicken hearts: delish.” She popped the tiny red lump next to a shotgun mod. _That’s gonna leave a stain._

“You want me to shove my hand up a chicken’s ass?” James asked. Shepard glared; an unspoken order. With a shrug, he complied, pushing his hand into the still warm insides of the chicken. _Por dios. This is gross._

“Think of it as field medic training.” Shepard smiled at James’ clenched jaw and handful of intestines.

“If I’m lying on the battlefield with my guts oozing out, keep _him_ far away from me, please.” Garrus huffed from his spot on the live chicken crate. “You stay away too, Shepard.”

With his chicken devoid of its insides and the heart next to its friend on his workbench, James stood back and admired his handiwork: a pasty white, goosebumped, slightly feathered, headless, footless, gutless chicken ripe for roasting.

“Good work.” Shepard said. “But you still haven’t killed one yourself.”

Garrus moved so she could take another chicken from the crate. “I’m gonna keep snapping necks till you do one yourself, or there’s none left. Whichever comes first.”

“Why am I doing this, Lola?” James whined.

“N7 training, soldier.” At his raised eyebrow, Shepard continued. “I’m letting you off easy. In Rio we _bit off their heads_ and used their _blood_ as war paint.”

James blanched, swallowed the bile that threatened to escape. _Reapers, take me now._

Garrus glanced at Shepard, caught her conspiratorial wink. “Come on, Jimmy. Can’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs, right?”

“There’s not gonna be any eggs to break,” James mumbled. Shepard gripped the chicken’s head in her other hand, set James with a firm stare.

“Fine fine. Hand it here.” He held his hand out, wrapped his fingers around the leathery feet, gripping them hard as the bird flapped around.

He let out a big breath and held the head in his other hand. So small in his big fist. So fragile. _Playing God._

“Give it a good yank,” Shepard said. “But not too hard. Don’t wanna pull the head right off.”

James froze, stared wide-eyed at Shepard. “I... I can’t.”

Shepard stepped up to his side, stood hip to hip, rested a hand on his shoulder. He ignored where that hand had been, instead concentrating on the contact, on her body heat. Anything but the chicken.

“Like this,” Shepard wrapped her own fingers over James’. One holding the feet, the other the head. He copied her firm but not tight grip, her hands warm on his now very sweaty own. “On three, we bend and pull.” She said softly.

He let out another breath, steeling himself for the pop, sending a prayer to anyone who’d listen.

“One. Two. Three.” Their hands worked in unison, bending down on the chicken’s neck, up on its legs. He felt the pop under his palm. Held on while the bird jerked through its death throes. Shepard held on too, keeping him steady.

“Holy hell I killed a chicken.” He said breathless, giddy, unbelieving. Shepard gently let go of James, standing back, sharing his big grin. Garrus smiled a turian smile.

While he marveled at his handy work, the elevator doors opened and Kaidan marched over. “Hey Shepard. I’m starving. Chickens ready yet?”

“I killed a chicken!” James thrust the bird at Kaidan, bursting with pride. The bird wobbled, head hanging loosely at the break.

“Uh, well done.” Kaidan held his hands out in defence, sidled over to Shepard, retrieved the plucked and gutted birds, then beat a retreat to the exit.

“I killed a chicken,” James repeated as he hung it up and started plucking.

_____

Dinner on the _Normandy_ that night and the mess was packed. From the Commander to the Servicemen, just about everyone had made it. Any spare chair dragged in so everyone could take a seat and get their own morsel of fresh chicken. Three chickens hadn’t gone very far with so many people to feed. But while the potatoes may have been reconstituted slop and the carrots lacked a certain vibrancy, together Kaidan, James and even Tali, had whipped up a roast dinner worthy of any Sunday family get-together. And they were family, too.

The crew sat back, replete. Plates licked clean, empty trays and dishes littering the table. A satisfied stupor settled over the group. Garrus, who’d joined the festivities despite his dextro diet, poured the last of the wine into Shepard’s glass.

“Shepard, remember that time you did a hit and run on all those pyjaks in the Mako? Kaidan, you were there. Back me up here.” Garrus said. Kaidan grinned, nodding.

“What d’you mean ‘all those pyjaks’? It was one! And I barely touched it.” Shepard protested.

“The Mako is an eighteen tonne vehicle. A pyjak’s only two kilos. Hardly a fair fight.” Kaidan laughed.

“Didn’t hear you complaining when we had roast pyjack that night.” Shepard smirked as she took a swig from her glass, laughter erupting around her.

“Commander,” EDI said. “My scans indicate that a nearby planet has an abundance of mammals very similar to your Earth pig.”

A strangled noise came from Kaidan’s direction. “Shepard, I _will_ pull rank if you don’t order a ground assault right now.” Kaidan said, almost desperate.

“No need, Major. I can smell the bacon sizzling already. EDI, set a course for this pig planet.”

Shepard leaned into James, held her forearm out and drew her omni-blade under his nose. Her voice low, feral, hot in his ear: “ever stuck a pig, James?”

_____

Two weeks later, the _Normandy_ entered the Sol System surrounded by allies, ready for the final assault.

James had learned how to stick a pig, Shepard made sure of it. The last of the bacon sat heavy in his stomach as he crouched in full armour in front of the chicken cage; watched the three remaining birds as they scratched at the paper and straw lining their home. Shepard had let him keep them for eggs on the condition that he make them a decent sized cage, feed them, water them, clean them out. And apart from that one time when they’d escaped, roosted on the edge of the Kodiak and pooped all over Steve’s console, he’d done a pretty good job.

He eased his gloved hand through the bars, held it out and let the chickens peck the grains from his palm.

“Well ladies, this is it. The final push.” He spoke low, a private message just for them. “I’m gonna be gone for a while but when I get back we’re gonna get a nice place for us all to live. Lots of real grass, real sunshine. And fresh worms, too. Not those buckets of frozen shit Esteban buys. So you girls wait for me. But if I don’t… if I’m not… I’ve left instructions with Esteban. Just. Run if you see Lola or Scars, okay?”

James pulled his hand away, stood to attention, gave the crispest salute of his military career. “It’s been an honour.”

He turned on his heel, made his way to the Kodiak to join Shepard and Kaidan for the most important fight of their lives. Three Earth kids fighting to take back Earth. For humanity. For the chickens.


	9. Mars. Or, Can't We All Just Get Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking it right back to Mars. 
> 
> James and Kaidan get off to a rocky start on their first mission with Shepard. And as we all know, it doesn't end well for Kaidan.

_Well this is fucking great_. The Reapers were real all right, not that James’d ever doubted Commander Shepard. They were real and they were destroying Earth. And where was he? On Mars looking for paperwork or some shit. The fight was back home, where he should be.

He suppressed his frustration to focus on the present: a Martian storm looming ahead. Massive dirty clouds, whirlwinds of dust and electricity. The sort of shit that jams comms and firing mechanisms.

“Damn, that’s a huge storm.” James said.

“Pretty average for Mars, actually,” Major Alenko replied.

Oh yeah. He’s got Major Killjoy Alenko riding his back too. Not that James wasn’t grateful for the Major getting their asses to the  _Normandy_  in one piece. Dude sure had a way about him though, and that way rubbed James up all wrong.  _Sanctimonious prick._

 

Commander Shepard lead them down a ledge and up to a dead Alliance marine slumped against a burned out generator. He hadn’t put up a fight: assault rifle still holstered on his back.

“Something isn’t right, here.” James suppressed a shiver.

Alenko scoffs. “What gave that away?”

“Hey, I’m just calling it how I see it.” James tightened his grip on his Avenger. _Don’t let him get to you._

 

“Well, thank you for your input, Corporal Obvious.”

“Shit. I’m not some fresh-faced Corporal,” James argued. “I’m a Lieutenant. I’ve lead my own squad,”  _that then got killed._

“Boys,” Shepard snapped. She fixed Alenko with a glare. “Back off Kaidan. James knows what he’s doing.” Then she turned to James, shooting him an an apologetic smile.

The trio rounded a corner, heard the pop-pop of lazy gunfire. Quietly, they ducked behind a crate. James peeked out: two people on their knees, hands behind their heads; five guys in heavy armour standing around. One held a pistol to the back of the head of one of the kneelers. A bang, then the body fell to the ground.

“Holy shit, they’re executing them!” James whispered.

“What the hell is going on?” Alenko asked.

Shepard shifted, checking over her rifle. Didn’t seemed at all phased by this shit.

“Gentlemen,” she addressed them. “It’s been a while since I’ve held my baby,” she kissed the barrel of her Mantis, “so go easy on me.”

Her easy demeanor was unsettling. And then Alenko chuckled. With his laugh and Shepard’s grin cutting the tension, James forgot about the execution squad standing just meters away from where the trio huddled.

“Like you could forget.” Kaidan said.

“Yeah, it’s like riding bike.” James added, easing into Shepard’s orbit.

“Never learned.” Shepard replied.

_What?_

 

“James. Time to see you in action. Been looking forward to it.” Shepard turned and smiled at James. His guts twisted. It may have been a while since he’d last seen combat, but as he crouched shoulder to shoulder with her, adrenaline surging through him, he wanted nothing more than to make Commander Shepard proud.

She turned to the Major, “Kaidan, you know what to do. ” He gave a short nod, silently moved to the side, blue waves rippling over his armour.

Shepard gave her rifle one last check. Eased up on one knee, hoisting her Mantis to her shoulder.

James shifted against the crate. “Uh, do I get any orders, ma’am?”

Shepard stared at him, brows furrowed. “Point the barrel at the enemy and pull the trigger.”

He squirmed under her stare.  _Right. Real helpful._  “I mean, where do you want me?”

“That’s a loaded question, LT.” She smirked. “For now, I trust your ability to not get killed.”

James blushed.  _Dios. Loaded question?_  Shepard was like a mine field and he’d just put his foot in the wrong place. But she  _trusted_  him. He grinned despite himself, snuck over to claim his own cover. He’d shoot his way up, destroying the enemy and anything in his way, clearing the ground for Shepard, and the Major too, he supposed. Then he’d stand victorious, a foot stamped down on an enemy head, Alliance flag fluttering in the breeze—.

A bang and a crack snapped him from his dreams of glory. Shepard fired at the executioner. From this distance it looked like her first shot had gone between the eyes.  _Fuck me, that’s some sharp shooting_ _._  Then the Major glowed all blue and another guy fell to the ground. Finally, James swung into action, relishing the opportunity for carnage. He threw all his pent up anger at those fuckers. _That’s for Earth. And that’s for my family._  One soldier crawled toward him, hand outstretched.  _And that’s for Shepard_ , shooting him one last time. But it was over all too soon. He picked his way back up the path to Shepard and Alenko.

Shepard tucked her rifle away, grinning at Alenko and giving him a small shoulder punch. “Just like old times, eh?”

“Just like old times,” the Major repeated.

But his smile didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, his reply bordered on bittersweet. James glanced between the two and just caught Shepard’s shoulders slump slightly before she straightened up.

“Move out,” she ordered.

Hell,  _there’s_ some unresolved history right there. James wasn’t dumb, he’d seen the spark between the two of them back outside the Admiralty Board; didn’t miss Alenko’s sad little whine in answer to James’ questioning. In the rush to get to the  _Normandy_ , then get organised, oriented, and suited before landing on Mars, he hadn’t had a chance to probe for more details. And boy, was he itching for details.

“Cerberus.” Alenko practically spat the word out as they examined the dead troopers. “What the hell are they doing here?”

“Good question,” Shepard said.

“You mean you don’t know?”

“I’m not with them anymore, Kaidan, if that’s what you’re asking.” She tapped the N7 badge over her breast.

“It wasn’t. But you have to admit, it’s a little  _conviennent_.”

What the hell was his problem? Shepard had turned herself in, no contact with Cerberus since. The angst coming from Alenko, the way he questioned Shepard had James grinding his teeth. Sure, the Major outranked the Commander, but this was  _her_  mission,  _her_  ship. She took orders direct from Admiral Hackett, not Major Alenko. Not like James took much notice of the chain of command, but he respected Commander Shepard. Unlike Major Ass-hat here.

He gave one of the soldiers a nudge with his boot on his way past. That earned him a scowl from Alenko.  _Fuck him._

As they entered the Mars Archives, pacing the floor of the agonisingly slow elevator, it was clear the Major hadn’t finished his rant.

“Shepard. I need a straight answer,” Alenko started.

_Here we go_. James watched the two scrap from a respectful distance, trying to piece together Alenko’s beef.

“You of all people should know what I’m about, Kaidan,” Shepard sighed.

Now  _that_  was loaded. The way Alenko’s head bowed and jaw clenched hadn’t escaped James’ notice. The long stares, the starry eyes. James knew that feeling. Had caught himself at it a couple of times while Shepard had been under house arrest. It’d been hard not to. He idolised the woman and actually meeting her, getting to be around her…  _Maybe if the circumstances had been different._   

They continued to bicker as the elevator came to a halt in a hangar bay. Hurried footsteps reverberated through the ducts above them, followed by gunfire. The three of the them raced to cover, firearms at the ready. A vent crashed down and out popped an asari. James watched, rapt, as she flung out a biotic field, capturing the two troopers who’d been hot on her ass. Calmly, she pulled out a pistol and shot them both while they hung in mid-air, their bodies crashing to the ground.

Shepard grinned, walked out into the open. James, unsure whose side anyone was on, drew his Avenger; then promptly stowed it as Shepard eased him back. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

The asari sauntered up, a curl on the edge of her lips. Holy hell, what a beauty.

“Shepard! Thank the goddess you’re alive,” the Asari hugged Shepard, then greeted the Major.

“Liara. Great to see you.” Alenko embraced her too, and the warm smile told James all he need to know.

_Liara_ _._  That name sounded familiar. James’ mind raced back to a stinking cave on Fehl Prime.  _Protheans… Reaper tech… archaeologists…_  That’s it. She’s the one who’d been in contact after his squad had been sent out to investigate what was jamming their comms. Alien tech, it’d been. Over the long range comms, Liara had mentioned Shepard and Reapers. James’ heart had thumped just a bit harder at the mention of her name. And now he stood right in front of the Prothean expert. Her eyes even more blue in real life.

Shepard, Alenko, and Liara babbled for a minute, catching up, apologising, making up for lost time. He stood back, noting the sad smiles and wistful glances.  _Great. An Old Boys’ club._  Never had he felt more like the new kid. He’d never fit in here. Yeah, he’d catch his ride out as soon as possible. Back to Earth. Back to where he could make a difference.

“When I’d heard the Reapers had hit Earth… I’m sorry.” Liara said. Shepard replied with a half smile.

As Liara explained some shit about the plans they’d been sent to find, a Prothean device or whatever, James watched. Liara spoke excitedly, answering Shepard’s questions, those big blue eyes full of devotion.  _Devotion_ _._  Yeah, that’s what Shepard commanded. Even Alenko was under her spell, though he had a funny way of showing it.

The conversation cut short when behind them the doors thumped and sparked with the attempts of someone trying to break in. James hoisted his Avenger, craving more action.

“Bring it on,” he growled.

“Not this time James…” Shepard flagged him down. “Head back the to the shuttle. Be ready.”

“But—”

“ _Now_ Lieutenant.” Shepard brokered no argument.

_You fucking kidding me?_ Grinding his teeth, he did what he was told and stalked back to the elevator.

Now he really did feel like the new kid; dumped as soon as someone cooler turned up. He fumed, pacing the elevator floor as it took him back down. He heard the first shots being fired at his Commander and he wasn’t there.  _Just like Fehl Prime_. He stalked his way back over terrain they’d already covered. Gave the dead soldiers a proper good kick this time. Then his stomach churned with regret. His abuela had raised him better than that.

That storm was almost on them now.  _‘Average storm’ my ass_ _._  This was massive. When he got to the shuttle he slumped in the cockpit, dumping his helmet on the seat but restraining himself from punching the wall. He’d get his head back in the right space, close his eyes and count to ten, check in with the Normandy. He swiped his hands over the control panel.

“ _Normandy SR 2_ , this is Lieutenant James Vega. Do you copy?”

“Joker here. Yeah, I copy. But dump the formalities LT, you’re not in Vancouver now. What’s up?” The pilot replied, voice scratchy with static.

A pilot called Joker? And a disregard for regs? _Okay then._  “Uh… Apart from this fucking massive storm and getting shot up by Cerberus, not much.” James liked this guy already.

“Cerberus, huh? Bet Kaidan’s loving that.”

James huffed. “No kidding.”

“Don’t let him get to you. He’s a great guy. Just has some… trust issues.”

“I’ll take your word on that.”

“Any idea—you’re—there?” Joker’s voice cracked up, static filling the comm.

_Damnit._  James tried a different channel. No luck. He tried the Shepard.

“Commander, you read me?”

Her voice came back filled with static. Try as he might, he couldn’t get through and he couldn’t get a lock on her position. He thumped the control panel. No, he wouldn’t panic. Shepard’s N7, Alenko’s a Major, and Liara, well, friends of Shepard seemed to know how to take care of themselves.

~~~*~~~

The storm raged around him, rocking the shuttle. James hunched over the controls, flicking through the frequencies, trying to catch a break in the static. _Might even get some news from Earth._ This was taking too damn long. James shifted in his seat. This sucked. Too much sitting around meant too much time to think. He thought about Shepard, naturally. She’d called the Major by his first name, Kaidan.  _Pretty personal_ _._  But then, she’d always called him James while he’d been her guard. Vega, if she was teasing him; Lieutenant when he pissed her off. Whenever Anderson visited, she called him ‘David’ when she didn’t think James could hear. ‘Anderson’ when she knew he could.  _Never_  Admiral.

Maybe she just didn’t care about regulations or titles since she wasn’t ‘Commander’ any more. But she was Commander again. Dog tags hung around her neck. Her N7 armor fit her like a second skin (and damn if it wasn’t just a little bit sexy). ‘Commander’ fit her like a first name. But the way she’d addressed her crew so far, and the way Joker had just addressed him… Shepard’s crew were her friends; a team who worked together, not a squad who followed blindly. That put Alenko’s attitude into perspective, even if it still pissed James off.

Chin resting on hand he drummed his fingers, listening to the unbreaking static.

“James—” Shepard’s voice called out. “— you read—-”

“Commander, come in.” He sat bolt upright, tuning the comm, trying to clean it up.

Static. Dammit!

“—has the data—the Norm—-”

“Commander!”  _Shit_ _._  At least he got a lock on her location: out in the open, on a rooftop. He radioed the Normandy, let Joker know that shit was going down.

“No surprises there.” Joker replied, voice cracking through the static.

Then he pulled up on the thrusters, took off in Shepard’s direction. Spotted a shuttle flying Cerberus colours taking off from the landing pad, bullets pinging off as Shepard fired wildly at it.

“Dammit. James.  _Normandy_. Anybody?” Shepherd’s voice rang clear, breathless, angry.

“I got this one.” He pushed forward with the controls, the shuttle clearly in his sights.

He smashed the Kodiak at full speed into the front corner of the Cerberus shuttle, knocking it off course, sending it careening back toward the rooftop in a cloud of smoke. The collision reverberated through him, but he kept control, pulling away in time to avoid joining the fiery heap. He banked sharply, pulling around, bells blaring, the VI warning him of heavy damage. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Down on the ground Shepard waved him over with a curt flick. Maybe a middle finger, too. Shit, she looked pissed. He landed the shuttle with a jolt and a thump, made his way out to assess the damage.

“ _Normandy’s_ en route. They’ll be here soon,” he said, hopping out.

“What the fuck was that?” Shepard stalked up to James.

“I—”

But she was gone, finger jammed in her earpiece, trying to get a clearer read from her comm.  _Can’t do anything right_ _._  He sighed. Then set his shoulders square and followed her at a safe distance.

Alenko had Liara’s arm over his shoulder, leading her away from the flaming debris while she muttered about data. Maybe a mid-air head-on had been a bit too much…

The flaming Cerberus shuttle exploded, door flinging outwards like a piece of paper in the breeze. And out stalked some kind of fembot. Before he knew it, Liara had hit the ground and the mech held Alenko by the helmet.  _Fuck._

Shepard and James drew their weapons on the mech. No clear shot though. Not without the risk of hitting Alenko. And fuck knows what his barriers were like now. Time slowed down as the mech slammed the Major into the wall again and again. Dimly, James heard Shepard’s protests. Then it let go and Alenko slumped to the ground.

The rapid fire of Shepard’s pistol snapped James back to reality. It crumpled in a heap at Shepard’s feet. Her eyes flicked from the mech to Alenko’s prone body.

“Grab that thing. Take it with us,” she yelled.

James did as he was told, hauling the mech over his shoulder. Shepard’s voice came in low through his comm; she kept saying ‘Kaidan’, getting more and more desperate each time she repeated the two syllables. He looked back and saw her heave the Major over her shoulder.

“Shepard, we’ve got Reaper signatures in orbit.” Joker’s voice rang out, the _Normandy_  easing down with the shuttle bay door opening.

_Fantastic_ _._  Like today couldn’t get any worse.

James held a hand out for Liara. She looked bad, but at least she was conscious. She wasn’t even wearing proper armour, only had a breather. Shit, Shepard sure knew how to pick them. He made his way up the ramp as the first Reapers descended in the distance.

~~~*~~~

Not knowing any better and having no orders otherwise, James followed Shepard up to the Med bay, both burdened by their loads. Shepard gently lay Alenko down on a cot. James dumped his mech on an opposite bed. He stood back and watched Shepard stare at Alenko, their faces both smudged with sweat and dust. Shepard obviously cared for him. Maybe what was good enough for her could be good enough for James, too.

Liara leant over the Major, catching Shepard’s eye.

“Kaidan needs medical attention. We have to leave the Sol System,” she said.

That snapped Shepard out of it. She straightened, her pupils like pinpricks and her face a mask.

“Get us to the Citadel, Joker.”

A female voice rang over the comm, orders requiring Shepard’s immediate attention. With one last glance at Alenko, Shepard jogged out with Liara close behind.

James stood alone in the Med bay. He ran a hand through his hair, popped the pressure seals on his armour. His body felt heavy, dirty. The exhaustion hit him and his stomach growled. New priority mission: shower and food.

“Welcome to the  _Normandy_ _._ ” He said to himself, shaking his head as he wandered out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give him a chance James, you don't know what Kaidan's been through. Trust me, you'll be best buddies soon enough.


	10. Cheese, crackers, and hamsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Kaidan bond over their love of cheese and Shepard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After that Mars story, I needed James and Kaidan getting along. So, this is set somewhere further down the line.

James slouched against the wall in lower engineering, nursing a scraped arm and probable bruised ribs.  _Love’s a bitch_ _._  He sighed and knocked his head against the wall a couple of times. Damn, he’s in deep and it’s taken him injuring himself down here to realise it.

Footsteps reverberated on the stairs. A pair of boots descended, followed by black and grey BDUs, a bright blue hoodie tucked under one arm. Kaidan paused at the foot of the stairs, side eyeing James before wandering over.

“Hey Major. What brings you down here?” James asked, thankful for the distraction.

Kaidan slumped down opposite James, knees pulled up, Spectre hoodie bunched up behind his head like a pillow.

“Could ask you the same thing,” he said.

“I asked first.”

Kaidan chuckled. “Just need some space for myself. It’s chaos up there.”

James knew exactly what Kaidan meant. The ship was crawling with diplomats and no one seemed to get on with anyone else. Turned out you couldn’t just bring all the species in the galaxy together with home-style cooking, plenty of beer, and a few dick jokes. James had found that one out the hard way.

“So?” Kaidan asked, head tilted back, watching James through half closed eyes.

“Oh, right.” James rubbed the back of his neck, sucked in a sharp breath. He was kinda embarrassed to be caught down here doing this. “Trying to catch Lola’s damn hamster.”

Kaidan chuckled again, fixing James with a knowing smile.

“You really like her, huh.”

James hesitated for half a heartbeat. But when he spoke, it was all bravado. “Hell yeah. Everyone likes Commander Shepard.  _You_  like her, I’ve noticed.” He’s sure as hell not gonna have this conversation with Kaidan, of all people. Especially when he smirks like that. James feared the rumours of mid-reading biotics were true.  _Time to deflect_. “You look like shit Major. You want me to leave you alone?”

“No, it’s fine.” Kaidan replied.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the soft hum of the drive core providing a soundtrack; both men lost in their own worlds. James’ ribs ached. His arm, wrist to shoulder, stung as the cool air breathed over the scraped skin. The discomfort focused him, kept him from thinking too much about why he’d come down here in the first place. That and Kaidan sitting opposite him, eyes almost closed, hands resting on his knees. He wasn’t kidding; the man looked rough. His jaw set tight, his breathing controlled. Kaidan frowned, waved a finger at James.

“What happened to you?” He asked.

“Dove for that stupid hamster. This floor’s like a cheese grater. Almost had the fucker, too.”

Kaidan huffed. “You want medi-gel?” He patted his pockets, looking for a tube.

“Nah, thanks  _hombre_. I’m pretty tough.”

“Yeah, I got that. Speaking of cheese. You want some?” Kaidan rummaged in his pockets, pulling out a block of cheese. A whole block wrapped in a cloth bag.

“You biotics are fucking loco.” He laughed, reaching out as Kaidan passed it over. Damn, good old cheddar. The pungent smell hit him as he broke off a chunk, bits crumbling onto his lap. Hadn’t had real cheese for… a long time. He tucked it back in the bag and tossed it back.

“Got any crackers for this shit?” He asked, only half serious.

With a sly smile, Kaidan’s hand ducked into another pocket, pulled out a handful of crackers. Leaning to the side, he dug into different pocket and plonked a small jar and a butter knife on the floor between them. ‘Quince jam’, the neatly handwritten label read.

"You’re shitting me.” James shook his head, grinning. He picked up a cracker, carefully cut a slice of cheese, slathered it with the jam and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

“This is fucking good shit.” He mumbled through a full mouth.

Kaidan wasn’t so greedy with his cracker, nibbling on the edge. “Mom makes quince jam every year. This was in the last package she sent. Then the Reapers hit.” Talking about his mom, his half smile and glazed eyes made him look a like a little boy again.

This tiny jar was Kaidan’s last connection with his family, with Earth, and here he was sharing it with someone who not long ago called him a sanctimonious prick. If this wasn’t true love, James didn’t know what was. Certainly not shredding your arm up trying to tackle an escaped hamster for your commanding officer just because you wanted to do something nice for her, that’s for sure.  _In deep, James. Deep._

“You know James, you’re not half-bad. We got off to a bit of a rough start, but we’re good now, I think.” Kaidan said.

James grinned, thinking back to their first mission together. Mars. What a shit storm that’d been.

“Yeah. We’re good,  _amigo_.” He huffed. “On Mars, I spent the whole time wanting to crack my rifle butt over your head. That mech bet me to it, though.” James nudged Kaidan with his boot. “I’m kinda glad it didn’t finish you off though.”

“Only kinda?” Kaidan teased.

As they chatted, slowly devouring the cheese and crackers, Kaidan lay out little crumbs in a semicircle around him. That man made no sense.

James had been apprehensive about Kaidan’s return to the Normandy. He’d finally found his place after spending so long wanting to go home. The Normandy was home now, he knew it. Ground side, he tore up the field with Lola and Scars; shooting shit, creating carnage. Ship side, he ruled the Mess, cooking up feasts worthy of those fancy restaurants back home. Shepard came down regularly for sparring sessions and pep talks. He loved those the most. Loved Shepard the most. Sometimes she’d bring a bottle of booze, and they’d sneak behind the crates and giggle like teenagers. They’d flirt and laugh, puppy eyes and and little touches. But he couldn’t let himself involved with her. It wasn’t the regs; experience had taught him that military life and relationships didn’t mix. Didn’t stop him falling for her, though. Hard. Really, life didn’t get much better. Except for galaxy being destroyed, but hey, it brought him and Lola together. But then Kaidan came back and stole James’ thunder on all three fronts.

First of all, Shepard never took them both groundside. Maybe memories of Mars still loomed fresh in her mind. Certain missions called for certain skills so she’d made up a couple of teams. Kaidan, Liara, and Shepard made up Team Blue Bell. The two biotics wrecked their enemies like nothing else. James would watch the feeds of the ground team, watch Kaidan tear apart people with his mind. How could he compete with that?

Second, Kaidan had proved himself to be a master chef, too. The things that man could do with a bottle of beer and a pack of bacon.  _Damn_. They’d had a cook-off once. Flames flying from the  stove top, benches covered in flour, egg shells and bottle caps littering the floor, the pair freely throwing curses at each. Kaidan had narrowly won the popular vote. Shepard had had the chance to level it up but abstained from voting, saying both dishes were equally excellent. Though she’d thrown a wink at James after she’d said it. Tease.

Finally, there was Shepard. It always came back to Shepard. James could hardly say he’d been monopolising her time before, but since Kaidan had come back, the Shuttle Bay had definitely seen less of of her. No more sneaking in booze. No more innuendo about penetration testing or barrel lengths. Instead, a lot of her time was spent with Kaidan in the War Room, liaising with Hackett, writing reports, reading reports, stacking reports on top of other reports.

James had to admit, Kaidan grounded the Normandy, especially Shepard. His quiet, calm, professional demeanor permeated the ship. Contrast that with James’ pissing contests with Scars, the bowling alley he’d set up in the corridor leading to the main battery, and the music he played, pounding through the shuttle bay while he worked. The two men were completely different in everything except their devotion to Shepard.

But it wasn’t a competition with Kaidan. They just complemented each other. And Shepard.

“I watched the feed from that last mission.” Kaidan said. “You three are a tight team. Makes for a good show.” For those other missions, Team Vanity Fair hit the ground.

James flushed at the praise. “Thanks, took some getting used to though. Couldn’t believe it when she sent me out  _alone_  into the middle of that first firefight. Thought I’d have Scars on my three. But no. Fucking shat myself, I’m telling you.”

“Yeah, she’d do the same thing with me.” Kaidan chuckled. “‘Trust me, K’, she’d say, ‘I’ve got your back.’” He paused, lost in some happy memory. Then his face clouded over and he stared at the ground, whispering, “she always had my back. Always. Even when I didn’t have hers.”

James knew enough about what happened on Horizon to understand how hard it must have been to make that decision. How much it had crushed him. And Shepard. His guts twisted at the thought of having to make that decision himself.

“Well you’ve got her back now. You Blue Bells kick ass out there.”

“Yeah. I got her back.” Kaidan smiled at the double meaning, voice low and soft.

“Kinda gets lonely out front, you know?” James said, changing the topic to lead Kaidan away from those memories.

“Ask her to change things around, then.”

“What? No way.” James shook his head. “Can’t just tell the Commander how to do her job.”

“Why not? She values the feedback of her team. I do it all the time. She hasn’t kicked me out yet.” He paused to chuckle, “and she’s had plenty of opportunity.”

 “Yeah, but you’re a Major, a Spectre,  _and_  her best bro. ‘Course she’s gonna listen to you.”

 “Trust me James, she’ll listen to you, too.”

 A soft snuffling came out from the floor next to Kaidan. The hamster nosed its way out to nibble at a crumb of cheese from Kaidan’s semi-circle.  A ripple of blue surrounded Kaidan, then the hamster. It floated up, surrounded in a blue bubble. Kaidan sent it over to James. He closed his hands around the little fur ball and the field crackled away.

 “Cheater.” He muttered.

 “Go. Take it to her. I’m sure she could use the break.” He closed his eyes, settled back into his hoodie pillow.

 James hauled himself up, pins and needles lancing down his leg, ass aching from sitting on the rigid metal floor for so long.

 James paused at the base of the stairs. “Hey Major,” he called.

 Kaidan cracked his eyes open, tilted his head in James’ direction, waited for James to continue.

 “Think we can try working groundside again?”

 A small smile played on Kaidan’s lips. “Sure. Think you’re brave enough to ask Shepard yourself, or do you need me to come with and hold your hand?”

 “Fuck off, Major.”

“Love you too, Lieutenant.”


	11. Gellix. Or, What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard thinks James should lead his own mission so gives him a simple evac to coordinate. What could possibly go wrong? Everything. Everything can and will go wrong.

**Normandy - pre-mission**

“James, got a minute? My cabin.” Shepard’s voice echoed over the comm above James' workbench.

“Sure thing Lola.” He didn’t really have a minute; things needed fixing down here. But she was like a siren and he couldn't resist her call. He wiped his hands on a rag and dumped it over the Avenger he was speccing and wandered over to the elevator. _What am I in for now?_ Deck 1: Captain's Cabin. He pushed the button, gave himself a sniff, _shit, should’ve changed tees_ , then subconsciously preened himself.

The elevator doors opened and peels of laughter from two females assaulted his ears through the open cabin door. He knocked and wandered in.

“Shepard? I’m here, at your service.” But instead of Shepard, Sam grinned up at him from the desk, tears streaming down her face, chess pieces strewn over the floor. Shepard jogged up the couple of steps separating her office from her sleeping quarters, collar open, skin flushed, hair ruffled, big smile.

She waved him over to her desk, pushed a chair in his direction. Sam wiped her eyes, stifled another hiccup of a laugh. James sat down, removing a rouge rook from the seat first.

“James, we have a proposition for you.” Shepard smirked, sitting down.

Okay, this isn’t quite what he'd expected, and he was pretty sure Sam didn’t swing that way. But he’d go with it, do his best (and he’d never had any complaints before), take whatever Lola threw at him.  _Definitely should’ve changed tees_ . He eased himself into the chair, pushing his chest out and flexing his biceps, just because he could. Then Shepard handed him a datapad. Mission brief. For an actual mission on an actual planet.

He deflated, hopes dashed.

"We’re heading to a wee planet called Gellix and you’re going to lead the mission.” Shepard said, trying to hide the smile that pulled on her lips. “Sam, take it from here.”

“Well I did some digging and I found-”

“Wait, hold on.” James dropped the pad on his lap, held his hands up. “What do you mean ‘lead the mission’?”

“It’s a simple extraction. Move in, pick up some civilians, move out.” Shepard explained.

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

Shepard leaned in, hand on James' shoulder, thumb digging into the muscle. “If you wanna play with the big boys, you gotta lead from the front.”

“Yeah, but last time I lead a squad they got wiped out.”

“No Collectors anymore James. I saw to that.” Shepard grinned, leaning back again.

“Now there’re fucking Reapers everywhere. That’s even worse!”

“Not in this system.” Sam said. “I’ve intercepted some chatter about Cerberus scientists wanting to defect. We could use them on the Crucible. And Shepard here thought…”

“...that you could lead the extraction team.” Shepard finished with a flourish, then linked her fingers behind her head, stretched her legs out and rested her boots on the edge of James’ chair. She wore that smug grin that usually meant he was in for it.

James gaped between the two women. She can’t be serious. And Cerberus? Nothing was ever simple when they were involved. But here she was giving him the chance to prove his worth, redeem himself for his past failure.  _Not a failure,_ Shepard had said when he told her about Fehl Prime,  _a tough call_ .  _There’s a difference and you need to learn it._

“All right. What do we know?” He sighed, picking up the data pad while Sam ran through the intel she’d gathered.

~~~~*~~~~

“What do you think?” Shepard asked once Samantha had left.

 “I think you’re insane.”

 “About the mission.”

 “Sounds like a trap” he replied without hesitation. “Cerberus? You never know what’s going on with them. Add you to the mix and things go FUBAR.”

 Shepard grinned. “Agreed. It could be a trap, but I’ve got your back on this, James.” She clapped him on the shoulder, friendly this time, and stood up. “Go. Choose your team. Read through the intel again. Reassemble your weapons. Lift some weights. Do whatever it takes to get your head in the game. In the meantime,” she pulled a crisp salute. “I await your orders, sir.”

James grinned. _Sir. I like that._ He eased himself up, returned his own lazy salute. With a couple of data pads in one hand, he wandered back out to the elevator. Then he turned back. _There’s just one more thing..._

“What were you and Traynor up to that had you so flustered?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Chess, of course.” Then Shepard closed the door, leaving James staring at the big red lock and the weight of a mission on his shoulders.

~~~~*~~~~

**Normandy - post-mission**

Things had gone FUBAR all right. Right from the fucking start. The mission was over now and James didn’t want to think about it anymore. He couldn’t believe how bad it had gone. As soon as Cortez secured the kodiak back in the hangar and released the doors, James was out, fuming. He threw his helmet on the ground, ripped off his gloves, hurled them at his locker. He didn’t look at Liara and Dr Chakwas as they stretchered Kaidan out. Cortez wrapped a consoling arm around James’ shoulder but he shrugged it off. Didn’t need that right now. Didn’t deserve it.

“Steve. Give us a minute, okay?” Shepard said, voice low.

The sound of footsteps retreated, Steve directing the ensigns and engineers toward the elevator.

Soon, all that could be heard was the soft hum of the ship and the huff of air being pushed out through James’ nostrils. He braced himself against a crate with one hand, the other balled into a fist at his side. Jaw clenched, eyes prickling, muscles taut. Shepard’s footsteps rang up softly. One, two, three, four. Then she entered his peripheral vision and stayed there.

“You would’ve gotten everyone out, Shepard,” he whispered.

“James,” Shepard warned.

“No, don’t give me that shit,” he yelled. “Don’t try and placate me. You would’ve done it. I should’ve done it. But I couldn’t.” He slammed his fist into the crate, immediately regretting it as pain lanced through his knuckles and wrist. He unclenched his fingers, shook his hand out. If only it were so simple to remove the pain of his failure.

Shepard grabbed his hand, pulling him to face her, to look at her. Dried sweat smudged her calm features, blue eyes full of concern, understanding. “Take off the rest of your armour. Go have a shower- a long one. Put on some clean clothes, get some food, then come and see me.”

“Not interested, Commander.” James glanced away, staring at the floor through pinprick tears.

“James. Look at me. Mission isn’t over yet. We need to write up the report.”

He pulled off his weapons, slammed them on the bench one by one. “Fucking paperwork. I’m not doing that shit. No one needs to know about this.”

Undeterred, Shepard popped the seals on his suit, easing the pressure. She prised a gauntlet off before he batted her away. He could strip himself. Didn’t need any help. Couldn’t fuck this up.

“The debrief isn’t just a rehash of events. It’s a chance to go through what happened,” she took the breast plate from his shaking hands, laying it down on his bench. “A chance to assess what went right, what worked, things we can try again.” He gave up struggling, just stood there staring at the ground, letting her remove his armour piece by piece, letting her talk. “Gives us a chance to look at what didn’t work, and why. What we might need to change.” She knelt down now, expert fingers easing his greaves away. “The mission is over when we learn from our mistakes and celebrate our successes.”

She continued working, in silence now, undoing his boots, even lifting his feet one at a time so she could pull the boots off. Finally, she ran her hands up and down his calves and shins quickly, the static of his undersuit charging his leg hairs, sending tingles all over. Huh. He always did that to himself after a mission. It had a way of relaxing him before peeling off his undersuit. She must have noticed him doing it, must have remembered how he’d joked to Scars about how orgasmic it felt. Scars didn't understand humans and their body hair.

The tingling helped now. Little waves of pleasure shot up his body and out the top of his head. He straightened, pulling his shoulders back. Shepard got up, stood before him again.

“See. You’re already feeling better.” She smiled so warmly that he couldn’t help but smile back, even if it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m going to get out of my armour too, have a shower, have some food. You do the same, then find me, okay?”

“What about K?” James asked.

“He’ll be fine. He’s been through worse, you know that.” She smiled again then headed for the elevator, walking backwards for a bit, keeping her eye on James, before turning and leaving.

He stood in the silence of the shuttle bay, memory shooting back to Kaidan taking the hit that knocked him cold. The hit James should have prevented. He winced, pursed his lips and concentrated on gathering up clean clothes, thoughts centered on a hot shower and a big meal. And not on Kaidan. Or Jacob. Fuck, definitely no thoughts about Brynn.

~~~*~~~

**Kodiak - escape from Gellix**

Shepard slammed the kodiak door shut as Cerberus troopers continued to fire at them. Steve dipped away, narrowly avoiding an Atlas missile. Through the turbulence, James lay Kaidan on the floor, checked his vitals: breathing fine, pulse mostly regular. But his brain activity was all over the place: spiking, plateauing, dipping, then spiking again. James didn’t know enough to tell if that was good or bad. From Shepard's reaction, he concluded that it was the latter.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Shepard?” Jacob stormed up to Shepard, one hand holding him steady on the rail above, the other curled up to a point. “Letting some jarhead lead your mission? You're a Commander. He’s a Major!” He pointed at Kaidan, “and you let this meathead loose?” He pointed to James.

Shepard let him rave at her, let him let it all out. James sat on the bench, letting it all soak in, believing every word.

"Why'd you even think this could be a good idea?" He yelled.

"James is a good lieutenant. He's  _my_ lieutenant-"

_"Your_ lieutenant? What, you letting him fuck you as well as take over command?”

Shepard ignored him, continuing her previous sentence. “James is N-school material, not some rookie. He’s Alliance through and through. He knows what he’s doing.”

“He fucking shot me! Can’t tell the difference between the enemy and the friendlies.”

“Hey man, I’m sorry about that, really.” James said, making the effort to lift his head and meet those wild black eyes.

“Fuck you. You couldn’t even graduate nursery school let alone N1."

“Okay. So there was some friendly fire. I admit that was not part of the plan.” Shepard tried to wrangle control over the argument.

But Jacob wasn't finished. “And getting two shuttles shot down was?  _Two_ shuttles, Shepard. And Brynn. She’s… she was…” He choked up, hid his face in his shoulder, chest heaving.

Shepard placed a hand on on Jacob’s shoulder, but he jerked away, shrugging it off.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Jacob.” She took a step forward.

“Don’t touch me, Shepard.” He pushed her away. Not enough to knock her down, but enough to have her checking her balance.

That was a step too far for James. He roared up, channelling untapped rage, shoving Jacob away from Shepard. “Stay away from her, you hear me?”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me again? Fuck you. You let Brynn die.” Jacob took a wild swing at James and it somehow connected.

James rubbed his jaw, eyes wide, surprised at the shock. He didn’t think he’d be able to feel anything anymore. But the hit was enough for his instincts to take over. So he punched back, a matching crack on Jacob’s jaw.

“Hey hey, back off, both of you.” Shepard squeezed herself between them, pushing them apart. “Jacob. Sit down. James. This mission isn’t over yet. You’re still leading it. You think punching refugees is appropriate behaviour for a squad leader?”

He shook his head, about to speak when Cortez yelled out from the pilot's seat.

“Alliance vessel has pulled up alongside the  _Normandy._  They’re picking up the evacuated shuttles.”

“Drop me off.” Jacob fumed.

“We have wounded here. We need to get him out first. Esteban,  _Normandy_ .” James ordered, burning with shame and desperate to regain both Shepard’s respect and control of the mission.

“Fuck that. Drop. Me. Off.”

James glanced between Shepard and Kaidan. Shepard’s face was as blank as Kaidan’s, but not as pale. After all this she was still letting him call the shots. The Major was stable. Probably best to get rid of Jacob before he kicked off again.

“Fine. Esteban, rendezvous with the rescue team. Get me Joker, too.” He stormed over to the copilot’s seat, giving Jacob a wide berth. James rubbed his aching jaw, sure a bruise was already forming. Shit, that dude must've gone to the Commander Shepard school of boxing.

Cortez’s fingers swiped over the control panel, belaying instructions to the visiting ship, then hailing the  _Normandy._

“Joker here. What the hell happened down there?”

“I’m dropping off some cargo at the rescue ship. We’ll only be a minute. Then we’re coming home. Have a med team ready, Alenko’s down.”

“Alenko? Shit, not again.”

James logged off, sat there watching the Alliance ship slowly fill the view. Cortez did the talking with their pilot, leaving James well alone. Shepard saw Jacob off with hushed voices and more apologies. Then it was just the four of them. James watched their shuttle retreat from the rescue ship with a mix of relief and rage. He returned to Shepard at the back of the shuttle. He slumped down, rubbing shoulders with Shepard, the grind of their armour sending shivers down his spine for all the wrong reasons.

“Brynn was his woman, yeah?” He asked, soft.

 “Yeah.”

 “Pregnant, too.” He didn’t need to ask. He just knew from Jacob’s reaction. “Fuck.” He whispered. Then he yelled it, punching the wall of the kodiak. He sat back, let his head knock against the bulkhead, closed his eyes and tried not to think about Brynn and Jacob and the family they’d never have.

 ~~~~*~~~~

**Normandy - post-mission**

James showered mechanically, standing under the scaling water, the burn a kind of flagellation. Despite Shepard’s permission for an extension on the regulation length shower, EDI dialled down the temperature when it became clear he soon boil like a lobster if left to his own devices.

He dressed mechanically, too. Only half drying himself so he’d have to struggle pulling on clothes over a half wet body. He shouldn't even be allowed the luxury of these fluffy towels. He’d prefer the rasp of sandpaper. A better, more deserving punishment.

When he stalked into the Mess, the crew gave him a wide berth. He didn’t look toward the medbay. He couldn’t. Sitting with his back to the Main Battery, he stared at the wall, shoveling food into his mouth like a bulldozer. When he finished he clasped his hands on the table, bored holes through the wall with his eyes. He registered Garrus' footfall, but didn't acknowledge him when he sat in the neighbouring chair. Scars didn't say a word. Didn't do anything. Just sat and stared at the same piece of wall as James. Through the fog of his thoughts, he found it kind of comforting, like Scars knew what he was going through. Like he’d been there too, made those mistakes, Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. Scars knew words weren’t needed. Just a body nearby. A living, breathing body.

He finally spoke though, interrupting James’ self-destructive thoughts.

“Jimmy,” he said, voice humming in tune with the ship. James ignored him. “James,” he repeated, just as soft. James finally inclined his head, indicating that he’d heard him. “Shepard’s waiting for you.”

James pushed his chair back, taking his plate and dumping it in the kitchen sink with a clang. Someone else’s problem now. He had to go face up to Shepard.

He stood solid in the elevator, dreading having to relive the events just hours past. Shepard would have to too though. But she dealt with this so much better than him. He may be physically strong, but where he had strength, she had fortitude.

The doors opened on Deck 1. Commander Shepard’s cabin door wide open, the melody of stringed instruments lilting out into the corridor. A far cry from the raucous laughter he’d heard when standing in this spot not twenty four hours ago.

“Looking good, James.” Shepard appeared at the door, her smile inviting him in. She patted his full belly, seemingly content that he’d eaten enough. “Smelling better, too. A shower works wonders, yeah?”

“Let’s just get this over with.” He slumped on the chair he’d sat on last time he was here, noting all the chess pieces had been cleared off the floor. He cast his eyes over the desk, catching data pads, a map on her console of Gellix, a steaming cup of tea. And in the corner, the chess board, pieces all lined up and ready for battle. He didn’t have the patience for chess. Couldn’t understand the point of it.

“Look at me. You’ve had enough time to feel sorry for yourself.” She sat opposite him, arms folded over her chest, mirroring him. “Shit got real down there, I know. It happens and as leaders, we have to deal with it. We can't be martyrs. The crew looks up to us for guidance, for reassurance. We’re mama and papa birds, keeping our flock under our wing. So. We’re gonna go through what happened today, learn from it, take it in, and keep going.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled, staring at the floor. He didn’t need this speech. He wasn’t a leader, wasn’t cut out for it.

“Come one James, don’t give me that ‘yes ma’am’ crap. When’ve I ever been anything other than Lola, huh?” She gripped his jaw, finger pushing into the bruise Jacob had given him, pulling his face to meet hers. Her smile soft, teasing. He noticed the crinkles at her eyes for the first time, the small scar above her lip, the wrinkles around her mouth. She was just like him: human.

“When you were out stopping Saren. When you were made the first human Spectre. You weren’t Lola then. You were Commander Shepard of the  _SSV Normandy_ . Hot. Invincible. Even death couldn't stop you.”

“And when did I stop being Commander Shepard and become Lola?”

“When I met you,” he choked out. Shit, he wasn’t gonna cry now. Couldn’t.

She dropped the pep talk and his jaw, hand resting on his knee for a second before turning to her console. A report template now replaced the map of Gellix.

“Start at the start,” she said, hands poised over the keyboard.

James sighed. Cradling his forehead in his hand, he spoke tonelessly. “We flew into a hot zone, Cerberus troops already roaming the LZ--”

“No, before that. Who was on the squad? Why’d you pick them?”

“You know all this, Commander.”

“Humour me.”

“Fine. You and K. Sorry, Major Alekno. Picked you two ‘cause you’re the prettiest on the ship, after me of course.” He managed a half hearted laugh.

“I’ll put down ‘infiltration specialist’ and ‘biotics and tech expert’. Go on.”

“Okay. So Esteban- Lieutenant Cortez lands us in hot. Fifteen-ish guys swarming the LZ, shooting shit. Standard practice: take cover, neutralise enemy, minimise collateral damage. You guys knew what you were doing. Piece of piss.”

"Except…”

“Except I kinda might’ve shot your old mate."

"Kinda might’ve?" Shepard asked, smirking. How could she find this funny?

"He had armour on, had yellow on his arm, I couldn’t tell! Those scientists were shooting at the Cerberus troops, and we were behind the troops, so we were being shot at by the scientists, too!” James argued, trying to justify the mistake to himself.

Shepard typed away, pausing for a sip of tea, then waited for James to continue.

“After the firefight, you and Not-The-Bad-Guy had a hug, he took a swipe at me, you pulled us apart, Major hauled him into the lab, made him good as new again. No hard feelings.”

“Not quite how I remember it, but okay.” She only tapped a few keys this time.

“Dr Brynn Cole introduced herself. You let me ask the questions, just standing back with K. You weren’t kidding when you said this was my mission.”

“What intel did you gather?”

He recounted the conversation: the scientists had been working for Cerberus, based at another facility, investigating Collector tech, running tests. Then scientists started disappearing. A disagreement with The Illusive Man, then mutiny. Escape.

“We wandered the facility. It was filled with awesome tech. Found some cool schematics. But it was also filled with scientists who didn’t know shit about getting shot at. I promised some injured jock that’d we’d get out of there alive.” James blinked back the anguish and continued. “Fucking AA guns. Had to get them online. You know what I’m like with tech.”

“That’s why Alenko was with us.”

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, while Dr Cole’s guys worked on the guns, we talked more.” Forty three-plus people needed evacuating. Sam’s intel hadn’t been clear, but he hadn’t expected that many. He’d hoped they’d all be able to cram into the kodiak and Esteban would have them home in time for post-mission drinks. Then Dr Cole mentioned the kids, the families. April sprang to the forefront of his mind, but he'd quashed her memory, focussing on the mission at hand.

“Clearly this wasn’t gonna be a quick in and out rescue. With so many people, and kids too, the evacuation needed careful planning if they were all gonna avoid Cerberus’ wrath. But we needed to deal with those guns first. I left you with Good Guy Jacob so you could catch up on old times. Little firefight wasn’t something K and I couldn’t handle on our own.”

The pair had gone up to the roof, through an escape hatch to find a satellite tower. Get that online, then the guns go online.

“The resistance was heavier than we expected. Our barriers took a pounding, nothing too serious. K got the dish running so Dr Cole could then get the guns going. But, of course, it didn’t work. Jacob had us hauling ass to the AA guns to get them going manually. You turned up at some point. Maybe, after the second fighter had landed.”

“It sounded hot. You needed me.”

“Don’t you know it. We got the first gun online, no problem. Left K at the second one after it failed. Then Cerberus landed more guys. You disappeared from sight, but I let you do your thing,’cause, you know which way round a rifle goes. I took the turret ‘cause damn that thing looked like fun. I should’ve--” he choked up again. “Kaidan, I wasn’t watching his back.” James’ chest heaved, sucking in the air, gritting his teeth, fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white. “Some fucker flanked him, got through his barriers before I’d even heard his cry. You know the rest.”

James had turned in time to see Kaidan flop down, hitting the ground the way only an unconscious person could. Shepard had appeared out of nowhere, cracking the neck of the trooper who’d flanked him. James had just stared, lost in the disbelief that this was happening.

Shepard had yelled at him, her voice piercing through the fog loud enough for him to return to the moment and keep the rest of the troopers off. Finally, once they were all down, he ran over to Shepard’s side.

“‘Look after him’, you said, ‘I’ll deal with the gun’. I’m so sorry Shepard. So so sorry.” A sob finally escaped, a half hiccup that pulled the bile from his stomach.

“Hey. James. He’s fine. He’ll be fine.” Shepard’s platitudes did nothing to sooth him as he remembered kneeling over Kaidan, omnitool up, hand rushing over his armour looking for who knows what.

“He wasn’t moving! Flat line on the vitals. I pumped him full of medi-gel and other shit. Deactivated his amp like you said to. Called Esteban for an evac but he was having his own trouble.”

“But you got a pulse? You got him breathing? And we got the gun online, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And those guns started firing shit straight away. Cerberus kept sending in a fucktonne of fighters but I hauled Alenko over my shoulder and we hightailed it outta there. When we got back down, Dr Cole wanted to start the evac. Had a shuttle full of kids all ready to go. But then Great Idea Jacob said we had to destroy all the data in the facility. That left me with two options: evacuate everyone now and potentially leave intel behind that The Illusive Man could use. Or wait, destroy as much as possible, and then leave.” James sat silent for a minute, listening to Shepard type. Then he continued, voice a low growl. “Like a fucking idiot, I chose the intel. Again. Should’ve learned the first time.”

“Each mission is different, James. You read it how it was: spend some time now to save a whole lotta trouble later.”

“That what you would’ve done, Shepard?”

“Yep.”

He glanced up at her, reading honesty in those eyes. Knowing that she agreed with him, that she would’ve done the same thing was little comfort. If this had been her mission, Kaidan wouldn’t be lying in the med bay. And she sure as hell could’ve prevented what happened next, he thought.

As people finished destroying their work, transferring data to omnitools, deleting info on data pads, shooting hard drives with pistols even, they moved to the shuttles, carrying what belongings they had around them at the time. It’d taken too long though, and a couple of Cerberus fighters had punched through the defences.

“They hadn’t attacked though, they just idled under our radar so I didn't notice them. I gave the order to launch the first shuttle, the one filled with the kids. The hangar doors opened and the AA guns kept the heat off. Everyone cheered, their kids were away safe, all of them. But fuck, there was this rumble, the base shuddered and the shuttle went up in flames, crashing down onto one our guns. Those kids. Nothing left. I should’ve seen those two fighters, should have taken them down myself.”

“You couldn’t’ve seen them. No one could’ve. Not even me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me.” She fixed him with a stare, hand on his knee, that honesty plain on her face again.

“If I’d started the evac just a minute sooner-”

“The other fighter fired through the windows, dropped a trooper in. Right?”

“Right. You took him out, and the two fighters out the window. But there were more. While we cleaned out upstairs, Big Hero Jacob got everyone down to the shuttles, Kaidan too. Everyone had crammed into the shuttles by the time we got downstairs but more fucking troops had cracked the hangar door. We had to pop those fuckers off before the shuttles could fly.”

“Just the two of us doing this.”

“Yeah. We make a hell of team, Lola.” He laughed, almost hysterical.

“We cleared the launch area and I gave the order to evacuate. One by one they made it out. No more got shot down. But Cerberus just kept coming. Where’d they get all these guys, anyway?” He paused, unsure if he’d asked a rhetorical question or not.

“I don’t know. But I hope to find out soon.” Shepard replied.

“One last fucking shuttle to go. The one with Dr Cole in it and a bunch of the lead scientists, the smartest ones. All we needed was for that shuttle to get away. Then you, me, Jacob, and Kaidan, could hail Esteban and go home. I gave the order and it fired its engines, started its launch. Then outta no where a fucking Atlas landed at the end of the pad. Fuck, I ran for it, not caring anymore, just chucking grenade after grenade at it, but it blew that shuttle to hell before I could stop it. Fuck, I can hear Jacob now.” His cry had been raw, piercing through James' comm as they watched the shuttle explode and shower debris down on the runway.

“I dunno who called it, you or me. Or maybe Esteban is an actual angel in disguise. But he turned up and we had no option but to haul ass and get home. I had Kaidan, still out to the count. You dragged Jacob kicking and screaming. More fucking Atlases and troopers firing on us. Shit, it was hot. You know I love a good firefight but with two shuttles down and one broken Major, this wasn't cool and it was all my fault. I fucked up, Shepard.”

"The only time you fucked up was in the shuttle ride home." She wasn’t blaming him, not accusing. Just stating a fact.

Yeah, the shuttle ride.  _Real professional work there, dick head._ He rubbed his jaw where Jacob’d punched him. Rubbed his thumb over his knuckles from where he’d returned the favour.

He sat in silence, watching Shepard’s fingers dance over the console. Funny how she could move those with such grace, whether it was while she calmly stripped him of his armour, or while she typed up this mess of a mission, or fanned her cards all coy when they played poker late at night. Her fingers had all the moves the rest of her body didn’t.

“Right. We’re almost done. I’ll read you the report.” Shepard sat back, picking up a bishop from the chess board and twisting it in one hand. As she read the report, James listened, focusing on her fingers playing with that chess piece. The report was sterile. The bare facts: intel gathered. Friendly fire. Man down. Shuttle interception resulting in collateral damage. Overwhelming enemy reinforcements. Another shuttle interception. The words were cold, empty. Didn't convey any of the emotion of actually being there. Brass only wanted facts. Not feelings.

“Okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Right, I’ll stamp that with the Commander Shepard Seal of Approval and send it to Hackett.” She smiled at James but he glanced away to stare at the ground.

After a few taps and pings from the console, she turned her chair to face him, pulling up so her legs rested alongside his.

“What would you have done differently?” She asked.

He thought for a minute, sucking in the air, violins in the background soothing his mind, focussing his thoughts. "On the roof, I would’ve kept you closer. Kept you on the fuckers dropping from the sky while I concentrated on the guys swarming the lower level. It's fine when you're at the back watching, but we were side by side so you didn't have full visuals. I used a scatter approach, and it didn’t work. Should’ve had a more focused defence. Should’ve concentrated on covering K.”

“Good. I agree. What else?”

James sighed, his body ached. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. But Shepard kept asking him these stupid questions. “Dunno. What would you’ve done?” That should at least keep her talking.

“Well, apart from correctly identifying my targets at the start? Nothing. I would’ve done the same. And the outcome would’ve been the same.”

He looked up, his eyes met Shepard’s. She was tired, too. He took solace in the fact that they were both as human as each other.

“I lost all those people.”

“You can’t think of them as your people. Sure, they were mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. But they weren’t yours. Focus on your own people. You got one man down, but he’ll pull through.”

“That’s harsh, Lola. You always look out for the civvies, always.”

“I do. And I grieve for them when I lose them. But I don't grieve for them like they were one of my own."

"What about when you lose one of your team, then? Or a whole squad?" James' Fehl Prime squad focussed in his mind. On Kamille, Essex, Mason, and Nicky. Only he and Milque had made it out from the Collector attack.

"You wanna talk about losing your squad? Fine. I lost my whole squad once. To a fucking thresher maw. And I had to make a difficult call back on Virmire, three years ago. Every time I see Kaidan, I see Ashley Williams standing behind him. The way this war's going, I'm going to lose more.” She paused, making sure he was paying attention. “Garrus, too. You ask him to tell you the story of his best buddy, Sidonis.”

So Scars had known how James felt. He would've watched the feed today, probably in horror. But he'd have known what was going on in James' head and not just what was happening on the screen.

They sat for a few minutes, listening to the music. Despite his pain, James slowly relaxed, his body felt lighter, mind clearer. His jaw not set so hard. He still ached though. Physically and mentally. But knowing, realising, that he wasn’t the first person to have this happen to him, that Shepard had had it happen, Scars too; those two people he looked up to the most, knowing that it could all goes tits up even for them. It kinda helped.

“You doing okay now? You’re not gonna self destruct on me?” Shepard nudged him with her boot, smiling.

“Nah, I’m good, Lola.” He feigned a smile.

“Still. I think I’ll keep you off shuttle duty. Just to be safe.”

He laughed a real laugh and Shepard joined in, giving him a playful shove.

“Commander,” EDI’s omnipresent voice called out. “Major Alenko has woken up and is demanding food. Dr Chakwas has ordered an IV drip for the next six hours, much to his disgust. Perhaps you could come and convince him that he should take the advice of his doctor.”

“Thanks, EDI. Come on, James. He’ll want to see you, too.”

Shepard made her way out and James reluctantly followed.

“Just, make sure his amp is still off, okay? I don't want him reaving my ass," he joked, half serious.

The cabin door closed on her laughter and on a mission James wouldn't likely forget anytime soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got long. I wanted to try something different here, and I think it mostly works. Let me know what you think. First, dialogue: I wanted dialogue and tone to carry the majority of the story. 
> 
> Second: chronology. I wanted to chop up the order of the story, so different bits get revealed at different points. It works in my head, 'cause I've read it so many times, but hopefully it's clear to others, too.


	12. Pissed as a Skunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's reaction to Mordin's death doesn't impress James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that these don’t follow on from one another. And sometimes different Shepards are used. Not that I give them different names, or anything helpful like that. But the Shepard from the Gellix story would definitely not react like this Shepard. I held on to this one for so long because I didn’t like her behaviour. And neither did James. Then I thought, well, different characters react differently and this is just one with a Shep that is definitely not me.

 

“Uh oh. Shepard’s taking Mordin’s death pretty hard.” Joker leaned back in his stool, getting comfortable, settling in for the long haul.

“No shit. We all are.” James had hoped to nurse his beer in peace, reflect on what went down on Tuchanka on his own. Instead he was here in Purgatory babysitting a drunk marine. But not just any marine...

Shepard was dancing. Never a good thing. But this dancing? This was something else.

“This isn’t happy dancing. This is ‘forget my problems’ dancing. Look at the arms.” Joker nodded in Shepard’s direction.

Yeah, James could see it now. She waved her arms about with a complete disconnection to the beat. Kinda looked like she was reaching out for something. Someone. Whatever it was, it was a mess. _She_ was a mess.

Why’d she have to haul ass to the Citadel so quick, anyway? Then announce shore-leave and storm off into a waiting skycar, straight to Purgatory. The Normandy’s lounge had plenty to drink, a state-of-the-art sound system, comfy chairs that weren’t sticky with split drinks. They could be there right now. Shepard could be making an ass of herself in private instead of here, under the gaze of those who lurked and prowled in this den of iniquity. Aria, for example. Or roving reporters, just waiting for the scoop to take Shepard down a notch. James kept an eye out for troublemakers. Looked like Joker was too. They’d followed Shepard here, sharing a sceptical glance when she’d pulled her N7 hoodie over her head and bolted out the airlock.

James shifted as Shepard’s arms dropped and she stalked off the dance floor, elbowing her way to the bar.

“Uh, you sure that’s a good idea, Commander?” He asked as she flagged down the bartender.

“Fuck off, Lieutenant.” She knocked the shot back, slammed the glass down. Ryncol? Really, Shepard? and stalked back to the dance floor, waving her arms with even more desperation.

James set his jaw, frowned. Shepard’s got an image to uphold. First human Spectre, Saviour of the Citadel. Hell, James’d watched it all. Idolised her. Loved her, just a bit, if he cared to admit it to himself. Sure, it’d hurt when he’d realised she was human, just like him. Shouldn’t have come as a shock. But it did. And she didn’t get more human than this.

“You’d better go rescue her, Vega.”

“Me? Why me?”

“You're her knight in shining armour.” He shot James a sideways glance. “Even got a stupid white horse on your armour.”

James folded his arms across his chest, fixed Joker with a glare.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. He knew damn well what it meant, but hoped that putting the fear of God into him would stop Joker shooting his mouth off.

Joker shrugged, leaning away a fraction. “You like to play hero, nothin’ meant by it.”

James eyed Joker. “Hey, I don’t _play_ hero. I _am_ a hero.”

“Uh huh. Tell that to those colonists back on Fehl Prime.”

_Oh no, you didn’t just--_ “You can be a real prick, you know that?” James balled his fists at his side. Would have landed a Glaswegian kiss on that smug face if it wouldn’t have resulted in Joker’s brains all over his uniform. And a court martial. Instead, he grumbled, hauled himself from the bar and went in to extract Shepard.

Joker was right, of course: James only played the hero. And, as much as he wanted to pull Shepard up onto the back of a big white stallion and ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after, he knew that, if anything, he was the damsel in distress, and she was the knight in shining armour.

_No._ He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, lights strobing, music throbbing, surrounded by desperate dancers. _No. I am a god-damned fucking hero and no one can tell me otherwise. Lola thinks so._ Bound with self-confidence, he made his way to Shepard.

“James, LT, come dance with me.” She grinned a rictus grin, not reaching her eyes. She looked like a husk: the glazed eyes, the hollows under her eyes, the red and blue lights bathing her skin in a pale glow. Shepard pirouetted, coming to dizzy stop. Danced like a husk, too.

“Nuh uh, Lola. Come on, I’m taking you home.” He reached out for her, aiming for her forearm, but instead gripping her hand like they were meeting for the first time.

She raised her eyebrow, dragging her eyes from his to their joined hands, then twisting hers in his grip, lacing their fingers together. Her grin turning predatory, glazed eyes taking on a shine. Great. She’s now a horny desperate drunk. He’d rather an angry desperate drunk.

“Nuh uh, not like that. Let’s get back to the ship.” He said. S _hit, not now Shepard, you’re pissed as a skunk_. He jerked his hand free, wiping it on his fatigues.

“All right. I’ll come.” She grumbled, leading the way, a little unsteady.

He followed her off the dance floor, hands on her shoulders, directing her towards the exit when she tried to veer off in the direction of the bar. Joker waited impatiently at the stairs.

“Hey, Joker, good to see you. You gonna fly us home?” Shepard slurred, slumping down over his shoulder. James pulled her off and she promptly slid into his unintentional embrace.

“Whatever, Commander.” Joker replied. Then to James, when James fixed him with a glare, “what, she’s too far gone. Not gonna remember anything.”

James just shook his head. If anyone was up for the medal for most cocky insubordinate, it was going to be _him_ , not that damn pilot.

Joker lead the way, James half dragging Shepard. _Just got to get back to the Normandy without anyone recognising us_.

“Hey, hey James. I’m tired.” She tightened her grip on James’ shoulder and let go of the ground, James buckling to catch her.

“I know, Commander, but it’s not far--”

“Carry me.” She pouted.

He rolled his eyes. Joker chuckled. At least someone found entertainment in their pissed CO.

“Better do what she says, Lieutenant. She’s your commanding officer.”

He went to scoop her up, sling her over his shoulder, carry her back with all the indignity she deserved. But she wiggled free, slid around to his back and draped her arms over his shoulders.

“Piggy back.” She commanded.

_You gotta be kidding me_. But he knelt down anyway so she could clamber on, ignoring Joker’s snarky laugh. _There goes_ my _dignity_. He tucked his arms under her legs and hoisted her up. _Whatever gets us outta here._

“I’m Commander Shepard and I cured the geno--”

James reached up, clapping his hand over Shepard’s mouth at a damn awkward angle. “Probably don’t wanna shout that about, Commander.”

She giggled into his hand, stuck her tongue out, licking his palm. He pulled his hand back, quick, shocked, wiping it on her leg as he adjusted his grip. Shepard nuzzled into his neck, fortunately keeping her tongue in her mouth. _Well, if it keeps her quiet_. Pity it didn’t keep his heart quiet. He could hear it thumping in his ears.

Joker walked ahead, keeping an eye out for reporters, anyone they knew, anyone who might use this situation to the Commander’s disadvantage. He’d glance back every now and then, a cross between amused and annoyed playing across his face. It’s not like Shepard was a heavy burden holding James back. If anything was a burden, it would have been Joker. Hell, James could’ve run all the way back to the dock with the Commander on his back. But doing so would attract unwanted attention, and probably have Shepard whacking him on the ass and yelling “giddy up!” For the moment, she just clung on, arms tight, but not uncomfortable, about his neck. One hand trailed down his chest, just stroking against his muscle. He would have put it down to accident, the natural rhythm from his walking, but her face was still nestled into the side of his neck and he was pretty sure the movement of her lips against his skin, combined with her casual groping, was all her and not him.

“Having fun there, Commander?” He huffed.

She responded by taking his earlobe between her lips and sucking. A shudder went through him. _Shit_. He readjusted her, hoping it could cover his reaction.

“What, no Lola?” She mumbled, still toying with his ear, nosing the shell.

“Commander. Mordin died today. We nearly got lasered in half by a Reaper. We woke up a fucking Thresher Maw. Then that Thresher Maw took down a Reaper. And you seem hell bent on erasing it all with ryncol. So no. No Lola.”

The rant had no effect. Instead, she splayed her hand over James’ chest, definitely groping him now.

“The krogan will be celebrating tonight. Don’t you think we should, too?” she purred.

“There’re enough humans in the galaxy.” _Dammit, Shepard._

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have a bit of fun.”

“Lol-- Commander. You’d regret it.”

“And you?”

“Me what.”

“You'd regret it?”

James wanted nothing more than a bit of fun with Shepard, Lola. Shit, he wanted more than fun. But not now, not like this.

“The galaxy’s falling to pieces, James. Might not get another chance.”

She had a point. But still, not like this. Some regs didn’t matter anymore. Wasn’t like the crew followed frat regs anyway. Garrus and Tali, there was something going on there. Not to mention Joker and EDI, whatever that was. But the first pair weren’t Alliance. And the second pair, well, technically EDI was a ship. Maybe? It hurt too much to think about it.

“Not tonight, then. You’re angry with me, I can tell.” She murmured into his neck.

He snorted. Angry wasn’t the half of it.

“You just let me know when, then.” She said, teasing his earlobe again. He suppressed a shiver. When the hell had that become an erogenous zone?

Maybe she was starting to sober up. Maybe not. No way she could be serious. Sure, some people let their truths slip out after a few too many. But this was crazy. Even if she was serious, it’s not like he could remind her anyway. Joker was right, she wouldn’t remember any of this. And what was he gonna do? Rock up to her quarters one day and say, ‘Hey Lola, now’s good.’ Best spare both of them the embarrassment.

The rest of the journey passed in silence. She’d definitely been kissing his neck before ‘cause now she was still, just holding on enough and no more. From her stillness and the steady breath on his skin, James would bet a few creds that Shepard had fallen asleep.

“Thank fuck,” James huffed as the doors to the Normandy hissed shut and they stood in the airlock, waiting for entry permissions.

Joker eyed the two of them “Are you gonna see sleeping beauty to her cabin?” He asked, with hint of amusement.

“Nah. Thought I’d dump her in the cockpit. Let her fly us away to our next exciting adventure.”

Joker ignored the threat to his ship, lead the way through the empty CIC to the elevator. “Just don’t go all Prince Charming and try and wake her with a kiss, all right?”

“Who the fuck do you think I am?” James did his best to straighten up, loom over Joker.

“All right, all right.” Joker held his hands up in surrender, backing away. “Later, Vega.” He stepped into the elevator, doors closing on a smirk.

James waited an eternity for the lift to return to the CIC, then another eternity for it to make the journey up one floor. The door hissed open and James made his way in, finally able to dislodge his quarry.

His abuela used to carry him up to bed and tuck him in tight after he'd thrown a tantrum and cried himself to sleep after. He did the same with Shepard. With one hand, he threw the blanket back, then eased her down onto her bed, still asleep. He prised her boots off, planting them carefully out the way. Removed her side arm, too, set it on her desk. That's all. Then he pulled the blanket up and roughly tucked her in.

“Had to be him. Someone else might have got it wrong.” Her voice wavered, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, Lola.” He replied, voice low and soft. He reached out to stroke her hair, but stopped halfway, retracting his hand, balling it in a fist by his side.

“I have to save the galaxy.” She sighed heavily. “Someone else might get it wrong.” She rolled over, undoing his tucking-in efforts. James sighed, tried again, really shoving the blanket in under her shoulder, pulling a spare pillow over when she started to reach out. She clutched it tight.

_You’re not alone though_. She had her whole crew with her. Some of them had already followed her to hell and back. They’d do it again. Everyone on board would. Guilt washed over him for being so pissed with her for getting that drunk. With so much riding on her shoulders, it was only a matter of time before she snapped. Only, on board would have been better.

James left a glass of water and some painkillers on her bedside table, taking one last look at his Commander before leaving. The galaxy might be falling to pieces, but he’d be there to make sure she didn’t.

 


	13. Gossip Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and James get caught listening to a conversation they shouldn't have been privy to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that couple near the elevator in the Presidium Commons? The human and her Asari mistress? I love those two.

 

“Shepard, get over here. Now.” James whispered, pulling her by the arm and dragging her towards the elevator.

“Shh. James, no. I’m listening.” She pulled back, but his grip was firm.

“I know you’re listening. That’s why you have to leave.”

“No, wait. It’s just getting good. The Asari is about to dump her girlfriend. I’ve gotta know how this goes down.”

“Fine. Just, be more discreet, please.” He let her go, followed her to the row of seats. Next to them, Avina waited to answer any questions one might have about the Presidium Commons. Shepard shushed her, then pulled up her omnitool, pretending to read. James picked at a scab on his finger.  _This is so embarrassing._ Commander Shepard, gossip queen. Even so, he strained to hear the conversation happening just beside them.

“Wait, I’m not the reason you’re breaking up with him, right?” The Asari said.

“Where is this going? Because if this isn’t serious, then we need to talk.” The woman replied, clearly anxious.

“You’re important to me, but I… it’s not healthy to rush from one relationship to another.” The Asari stuttered. Shepard nudged James in the ribs. He rolled his eyes, but tilted his head just slightly.

“Well I need to rush somewhere. If I end it with him I lose my partner benefits, and that includes my apartment.” The woman argued. Damn, she’s cold. Staying with her husband just to collect the benefits? Shit. James leaned forward, craned his neck to get a better look. All he could see was the back of the human, shoulders slumped.

“Okay. So maybe, just for your own security, you need to figure out an exit strategy before you talk with him.” The Asari shifted on her feet and James caught a glimpse of her face. Looked like her confidence was slipping. If she was going to end it, she’d have to do it soon, before her girlfriend moves in and fills the spare room with all her clothes and shoes...

The woman faltered. James had to lean out further to catch what was happening because Shepard had leaned forward too.

“I thought I had.” The woman hesitated, voice wavering.

The Asari took the woman’s hands in hers. “And I cherish the time we’ve had together But…”

Oh ho, yes. This  _was_ good. The Asari’s eyes darted around the Commons, struggling to find the words needed to finish the job. But then they settled on James’. He recoiled, pushing Shepard back too. Shit, they’d been caught.

“Hey. Hey, you.” The Asari snapped. James looked up all innocent. Shepard looked up from her omni-tool, feigning annoyance.

“Can I help you?” She asked in that Commander-Shepard-Good-Samaritan voice.

“Oh. Oh you’re Commander Shepard, right? I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I saw someone sitting there and thought…” She trailed off when she noticed her now-ex-girlfriend stumble past, one hand covering her eyes, the other trying to stifle a sob. “Erica!” the mistress called out. “Wait. Let’s just talk some more.” The Asari turned and ran after her, leaving James and Shepard alone.

They both let out heavy breaths, looking at each other for a second before bursting out laughing.

“Shit, that was close, Lola.” James laughed, letting out another lungful of air. “Let that be your lesson: you can’t just stand next to someone and pretend you’re not listening.”

“ _My_ lesson? You’re the one who made eye contact. You blew our cover!” Shepard slapped his shoulder. Then she stood. “Come on. Let’s follow them. Show’s not over yet.”

“You can’t be serious. They know what we look like.” James edged away from Shepard.

Shepard just smirked at him, then disappeared altogether. An invisible hand took his, lead him towards the stairs. “Come on, they’re going to the apartments.” She paused beside a pot plant, then her disembodied voice whispered, “keep yourself hidden. And keep you comm on, I’ll get close and patch you through.”

“Damn, Lola, you really are a gossip queen.” But he settled down, adjusted his comm with a smirk on face. Yeah, this was gonna get good.

 


	14. “It’s been an honour, Lieutenant Vega.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's resolve wavers during the coup attempt leaving James to make a difficult decision.

The coup attempt had been yesterday. No, two days ago. James couldn’t tell. Time had blurred everything into one long nightmare that he only just realised he wasn’t waking up from. They hadn’t left the Citadel yet, he knew that much. And now he stood outside the door to the Commander’s cabin, sucking up the courage to go in and face Shepard. Exhaling one last deep breath, he raised his hand to knock. But the door opened on Garrus standing there like he knew James was on the other side. Kinda looked like he winced as he made his way out.

“I’ll just wait out here, Shepard,” he called back. Then lower, so only James could hear, “for your protection, James. Just wail if you need me.”

James swallowed hard and walked in. Shepard sat on the end of her bed. Shit, he’d seen her angry before, but not like this. This was almost feral. Her eyes black with rage, face smudged with tears and blotched red, jaw clenched so tight her teeth threatened to shatter, fists balled so hard her knuckles shone white.

She stormed up to him, shoved him right against the fish tank.

"You’re a fucking idiot, James. Why did you shoot him?” Shepard yelled, threw a wild punch but it only grazed his cheek.

“I had no choice!” he argued, edging to the side, putting more space between them. “Shepard, he had his gun pointed at you and you weren’t _doing_ anything.”

“I was _thinking_ ,” she said through gritted teeth.

“When someone has a gun pointed at your face, you gotta think quicker than that.”

“I had it under control. So did he.”

“Funny kinda control. They could see your hands trembling from the opposite wards.” Shit. He hadn’t come here to accuse. He’d come here to let her rage at him, hit him, do whatever she needed to do to get the events of the coup out of her system. She clearly needed the latter, but he’d already failed at the former.

Shepard’s whole body trembled now. She wasn’t looking at him. James shifted his weight from one foot to the other, watched Shepard as she paced the floor of her cabin, one hand rubbing over her forehead, thumb digging into her eye.

His stomach lurched and he ground his teeth. He’d done the right thing. He knew it. She had to know it.

_____

Shepard, Garrus, and James skidded to a halt in front of the three Councillors and, shit, it really was Kaidan. James slammed the elevator door closed and Garrus ran a hack to keep it that way. The Cerberus soldiers made threatening noises in the shaft behind them but that was nothing compared to the Mexican standoff Shepard’s team had just walked into.

Kaidan had his pistol drawn point blank at Shepard. Shepard, Garrus, and James had theirs trained on Kaidan.

The pair shared desperate words and she ordered James and Garrus to stand down. They did, reluctantly. James listened to Shepard’s explanations, eyes trained on both Kaidan and Udina, ready to draw his weapon in a split second. Kaidan still had his pistol aimed at Shepard; his gaze flicked between Shepard’s eyes and the elevator door behind her. His resolve was wavering, fingers flexing on his pistol. _Trust her_ , James pleaded, willing Kaidan to read his mind. But as soon as that asshole Udina started fiddling with the door controls, the three of them raised their weapons. Shepard lurched to one side, trying to get a clear shot at Udina, but Kaidan stubbornly followed, putting himself between the Councilor and the Spectre. James couldn’t get a clear sight on Udina either, so he kept his eye trained on Kaidan’s shoulder. He could just take that shot, disable the Major, take him out of the equation for the moment. He flicked his eyes to Scars, his rifle trained on Kaidan too. Shit, could this get any worse?

“Councilor, get the door,’ Kaidan ordered.

 _No no no_. James adjusted his grip on his rifle, training his sights on Kaidan’s shoulder. Was he a good enough shot to take someone down without killing them? With this assault rifle, maybe, maybe not. Kaidan glanced between the three of them, a quick lick of the lips, before settling his gaze on Shepard. Regret, doubt, untold words poured out from those eyes. But time was running out. Shepard’s hands were shaking; James could see her pistol wavering. _Shit, Shepard, keep it together._ She wasn’t gonna do it. And those pricks were right behind them, right behind those doors. He had no choice. Kaidan left him no choice. _Shepard_ left him no choice. He hoped the for the best and—

He pulled the trigger.

Kaidan staggered back, pistol falling, his hands flying to the impact on his chest. He crumpled to the ground like he had on Mars. Fuck. _Shit, fucking fuck._ James watched him fall in horror when another shot rang out. He glanced up from the mark on Kaidan’s chest to see Udina fall too. Shepard chucked her pistol and rushed over to Kaidan, her ramblings too incoherent for James to understand. While she fumbled over him, ominous bangs came from the doors behind. James and Garrus whipped around, forming a guard in front of Shepard while aiming for whatever was gonna come through those doors. But it was just Bailey and half a dozen C-Sec officers. Cerberus was gone, no where to be seen. Garrus bolted straight to Shepard’s side, leaving James and the two remaining Councillors to explain what happened.

In the long confusion that followed, the landing pad swarmed with C-Sec officers looking busy, talking over comms, but really doing nothing at all. The surviving Councillors left with a C-Sec escort. Some poked and probed at Udina, taking photos, doing other pointless shit before lifting him into a body bag and zipping him up. Garrus remained next to Shepard, his omnitool up, dialing whatever doses of medigel he could. Shepard just knelt there, head bowed, holding Kaidan’s hands in her lap. His eyelids were half open, mouth moving, but if he was saying anything, James couldn’t tell.

The adrenaline started to wear off and weariness crept into his joints, but James’ heart rate hadn’t dropped. It thumped harder as he stared at Shepard’s back. His guts twisted as Garrus rested an arm over her shoulders and pulled her in close. James walked up behind them, he should say something. But he didn’t know what. He stood on the other side of Shepard, looking down at Kaidan’s blood-drained face, then over his chest. His breast plate lay next to him, prised off without regard for the couplings and connectors. The bullet’s entry was obscured by the weave of Kaidan’s under armour, but James could see the tufts of material fluffed up by his shot. He was about to open his mouth when Garrus spoke.

“Back away, James.” The softness of his voice contrasted with the harshness of his words.

James did as he was told, retreating to a respectful distance. His stomach churned as he watched the medics lift Kaidan onto a stretcher. _A stretcher, not a bag._ Garrus had to hold Shepard back as they carried him away. She strained against Garrus’ hold, a sob wracked her body, echoing through the atrium. She reached out for one last touch but it was too late, Kaidan now carried out of reach. She caught James’ eyes and he stepped back, back hitting the wall behind him. Rage and fear twisted her face, distorting her usual calm, smooth features. He’d fucked up. Fucked up big time. But he’d had no choice. He keep saying that to himself, he knew it was true. She had to know it, too.

Steve came down in the shuttle, picked up Garrus and Shepard. James let them go without him. Shepard didn’t need him. He’d shot the only person she needed. As he waited on the landing pad for his own ride, he walked up to the edge, peered over. He could just lean forward, fall all the way to the other side of the Citadel. He’d black out before making impact, he wouldn’t feel a thing. Before he could lean out further, an Alliance shuttle pulled up, door open, hovering impatiently. James jumped in, taking one last look at the scene, then closed the doors on the Cerberus coup attempt.

____

Shepard stopped her pacing, stood in front of him. “You need to get off my ship, James.” She said it low, so low he barely heard her.

“W-what?” It came out as a half laugh, and he gave her a lopsided grin, he must’ve heard her wrong.

“I’m serious. Pack your things and leave.”

He stepped towards her but stopped when she backed away. “Shepard, this is crazy. You can’t do this. You need me,” he begged. _I need you_ , he almost added.

“No. I don’t need you any more.” She stood there in front of him, arms folded over her chest, jaw working, teeth grinding, staring directly at him with a watery glare.

Pain lanced through him at her words, tears pricked his eyes. She couldn’t be doing this. He was still trapped in this nightmare. He’d wake up; Kaidan would wake up and everything would be fine. “He might pull through yet. He’s been through worse,” he pleaded. Kaidan had been taken back to Huerta, the doctors had stabilised him, he’d be fine.

Her expression changed from hollow despair to barely controlled rage. She spoke in a low growl: “If he doesn’t, then you… I will hunt you. Wherever you are, I will hunt you down and you’ll wish you never met me.”

He took a step back, her words twisting in his heart like a knife. He opened and closed his mouth, too dumb to speak. He didn’t believe her. This was stupid. If she could just give herself more time, then the Major would wake up and she’d forgive James and together the three of them would fly off and defeat the Reapers once and for all. But as he stared at her, still too scared to say anything, her eyes told him he’d lost her, he couldn’t get her back..

He held his hands up, finally accepting defeat and backing away before turning and making his way to the door. He placed his hand on the lock, and while he waited for it to open, numbness crept through his veins. It started in his heart where her words had pierced him and it slowly oozed outwards. The realisation hit him that this was it, this was the last time he’d be in Shepard’s presence ever again. _At least until she hunts me down._ He turned and faced her, arms hanging dead at his sides. She still stood there at the foot of the bed, arms still wrapped tight around her chest, her mouse-brown hair sticking out at all angles from her ponytail. Those deep blue eyes welling up, threatening to burst, eyebrows dipped and bunched with rage and despair. And those lips, usually so soft, usually pulled into a grin so wide it threatened to split her face; those lips now a thin line that he’d never get to kiss. “I love you, Shepard. I’ve always loved you,” he choked out. The doors opened silently and he left silently, turning his back on the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Garrus pushed himself off the wall, looked James over with a mix of regret and pity. James ignored him, pushed the elevator button. Down. His only option was down.

“I don’t know if it makes things any better, but I was half a second away from doing the same thing,” Garrus said.

It didn’t make things any better. “If you’d been a second quicker, it’d be you she’s kicking off the ship.” He knew that wasn’t true. Shepard respected Garrus more than anyone on board. If he’d taken the shot, she’d’ve understood. She’d’ve forgiven him. It wasn’t fair.

“He’ll pull through, right? He’s got to.” James looked up at Garrus, like the turian could nod his head and it would be true.

“For the sake of the galaxy, I hope so.”

James stepped into the elevator, pushed the button for the crew deck. He’d gather his meager belongings and leave before anyone noticed.

“James,” Garrus called. James paused the elevator, raised his head to meet Garrus’ eye. “It’s been an honour, Lieutenant Vega.” He pulled a crisp Alliance salute and James couldn’t help the bittersweet smile that crossed his own face as he saluted in return.

“The honour was all mine, Vakarian. Take care of her.” James replied, the elevator doors closing on the second best thing that had ever happened to him. Finally, he broke the salute and let the tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic! James isn't gone forever! I swear the next thing I write will be horrifically fluffy and no one will get hurt and it will be ice creams and rainbows.


	15. Hamsters and Medi-gel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to Cheese, Crackers and Hamsters (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1131348/chapters/2472793)
> 
> James takes Shepard's hamster up to her cabin, gets patched up, and talks ground-side tactics.

With the hamster cupped in his hands, James elbowed the elevator button. He’d go up to Shepard’s cabin, drop off the hamster, ask about going groundside with Kaidan. Simple. No problems. _Why does this elevator take so long?_ He stepped over to the window, looking down on the Shuttle Bay, saw Esteban fine tuning the Kodiak. That man worked too damn hard. _And damn this hamster tickling my fingers._

When the elevator finally arrived, he elbowed the deck one button. But, if Shepard’s trapped in the war room, he could end up waiting around for hours.

“EDI, is the Commander around?” He asked the ceiling.

“Of course, Lieutenant Vega. She is made of mass. Therefore, she occupies physical space.” EDI replied.  
That AI spent too much time with Specialist Traynor. “I mean, is she available?”

“She is in a meeting.”

“Can she be interrupted?”

“It is hard to read her body language. She appears ready to fall asleep or kill someone.”

James huffed. “Sounds like she needs a break.”  
“Agreed.”

________

 

Shepard stifled a yawn, drummed her fingers on the desk and tried to listen to the Ambassador droning on with excuses about why he can’t possibly help and how Shepard was doing such a wonderful job anyway. Bloody Kaidan making his escape when he did. But she knew that pinched look and was glad he had the sense to excuse himself before she had to order him out.

“Commander.” EDI’s voice floated down from the ceiling. “My apologies for the interruption, but there is a situation with Lieutenant Vega that requires your immediate attention.”

“Thanks EDI. Excuse me, gentlemen, ladies.” Shepard pushed her chair back and marched out the war room, through security, through the CIC and to the waiting elevator. _If he’s put another bowling ball through the sleeper pods..._ Whatever it was, she was pleased for the distraction.

“EDI, what’s the situation?” She asked, hitting the button for the shuttle bay. But the elevator went up instead. “EDI?”

The doors opened at Deck 1 to the sight of James leaning against the wall, hands clasped in front of him.

“James? This better be important. I’ve got diplomats down there...” She trailed off when he grinned that big stupid grin.

He pushed off the wall and followed her into her cabin.

_____________

 

“So, what’s in your hand? And what happened to your arm?” Shepard asked, reaching out to touch the scraped skin, but pulling back in time.

“One thing at a time, Lola.” He stepped forward, asking her to cup her palms. Carefully, so the little shit didn’t escape again, he let the hamster out of his hold and into Shepard’s. He grinned at the squeal she let out. She ran her thumb over the little fur ball, then cupped it to her nose and cheek, cooing gently.

“You caught him!” She smiled up at James, then reached up on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. A burst of butterflies fluttered in his chest and while he blushed bright red, she dumped the hamster into its cage. She added some fresh food and dipped away to get water, whispering sweet nothings the whole time. He wished she'd whisper sweet things to him.

“Thank you, James.”

“Hey, I was just playing hero, Lola.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Had some help from the Major, too.” Without K, he’d still be down there. Probably with more busted up ribs.

Shepard raised her eyebrow at the mention of Kaidan, but must’ve understood why he’d ended up down in the depths of Engineering. Then her eye settled on James’ scraped up arm.

“So my knight in shining armour injured himself catching a hamster? I’ll get the medi-gel.” She rummaged in a draw--James blushing again as he caught himself checking her out--then dumped a first aid box on the desk.

Aw, shit. It was that insta-heal crap that burned like napalm: a super high grade military gel that acted like a second skin. No bandages needed. Not pretty, but it worked quick, delivering high doses of broad spectrum antibiotics while healing surface wounds. James didn’t really know how it worked. All he knew was that it cleared your sinuses as well as your scrapes. And Shepard wanted to slather it all up his arm. He made a feeble protest but Shepard gripped his wrist, squeezing the tube out and rubbing it in. James flinched at the sting and gritted his teeth. He concentrated on Shepard. Not on her hand inflicting this torture, but on her face and the focus etched into her features. It wasn’t often he got to see her up this close. On missions they might knock helmets, a kind of krogan-like hello-bump, but he couldn’t see her that well through the visors. And when they sparred she moved too quick for him to just stare. He’d be flat on his back if he didn’t keep his guard up. But now, with her eyes on his arm, he could take the time to notice a freckle to the left of her nose, and how her eyebrows were a shade lighter than her hair, and that it looked like she used to have pierced ears, but the holes had long since closed up. He was about to ask her about it when she met his eye and bumped her fists on his chest, indicating that she was done. He winced as one fist landed on his bruised ribs. Shepard caught it.

“What’s wrong with your chest?” She asked.

“Nothing, Lola. I’m fine.” He flexed his arm, checked out her handy work.  
“Don’t lie. Come on, take it off. I’ve got the medi-gel right here.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.”

She folded her arms over her chest, fixed him with a glare.

“All right, all right.” He mumbled. Not like they hadn’t all stood around after missions in various states of undress, talking shit while cleaning and stowing armour, weapons, supplies. But in her cabin, just the two of them and no post-mission exhaustion keeping the body in check? _Shit_. Well, if she’s gonna make him, he may as well make a show of it. He crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his shirt. Then he peeled it up and off, slowly, and not just because he wanted to her notice; his ribs protested, but he made sure to flex his muscles as he revealed them. He couldn’t help but smirk when he lowered his arms, tee balled up in one hand. But Shepard’s eyes weren’t saying ‘take me now’.

“Shit, James.” Shepard reached out, fingers ghosting over the big angry purple bruise under his right pec. He flinched again.

“It’s nothing.” He tried to reassure her.

“You didn’t get it chasing that hamster, did you? You’re an idiot.” She rummaged around in the box, pulling out another kind of medi-gel. Oh man, this one was even worse. An anti-inflammatory that felt like it burrowed under your skin and sucked the swelling out from the inside. It itched like crazy but at least it smelled like it was good for you. She rubbed in the gel, her other hand just holding his left side, keeping him steady. With the heat from her hand, he might need a burn gel to relieve the flames that licked at his skin from her touch.

She stood back once she was done, nodded her head in satisfaction. While she cleaned up and put the med kit away, James checked himself over. The scrape on his arm had almost returned to normal and even though it itched like hell, the swelling on his ribs had started easing immediately. He slipped his shirt back on, figuring he couldn’t just stand around half naked anymore. If Shepard looked disappointed, she didn’t show it. That made him disappointed.

“How’s Kaidan?” She asked.

“Fine,” James shrugged. “Well, pretty crap, actually. He gets those headaches alot, huh.”

“Only when he overdoes the biotics. Or gets stuck in a room of diplomats who can’t tell the ass end of a Reaper from the people trying to stop them.”

They shared a smile. _Better them than me._ Hell, he’d’ve stolen the Normandy and gone off on his own, too, if he had to deal with the Council and ambassadors and diplomats every damn step of the way. But military brass, chain of command, direct orders; he could deal with that. Though Shepard might disagree...

Shepard straightened out her dress uniform, made noises indicating that she should really get back to the war room. At least one Spectre should be there, she said, and Kaidan wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. Shit, K. That’s why he came up here. Well, as well as dropping off that hamster.

“Oh, hey, about the Major. We got talking.” James said.

“Uh huh. Should we sit? I know how Kaidan likes to talk.” She waved off his protests of her needing to get back to work, and lead him down the stairs to the couch. James took in the room, noticed her spare N7 armour set up in the wall space, her N7 hoodie and BDUs lying on the bed, the analogue holo clock on the bedside table along with a pile of data pads and half the Normandy’s mug collection.

“Shoot.” She said.

His eyes drifted to hers. “Well, you know we didn’t really get off to a great start,” he grinned at her eye roll, “but we’ve cleared the air and we reckon the three of us would make a shit hot ground team. What’d’ya say?”

Shepard set him with a hard stare. “How’s it gonna work?”

Ah, well. He hadn’t thought this part through. He just thought they’d make a good team. Trust Shepard to make him think.

“Well, for a start, we’re the two best looking guys on the ship. Seems a waste you leaving one of us behind. ‘Course, we’d do our best to avoid distracting you. Focus on the mission and shit.”

“Distraction, huh? You know I already spend my time staring at your asses through my scope.”

James stuttered at her words, then flushed red as she laughed at his reaction.

“Come on. Give me some real reasons.” She grinned.

James composed himself, thought quick. The Major had some cool biotic tricks and with James’ quick firing, they could tag team anyone who stood in their way. Shepard’d just have to clean up and keep the heat off. Not to mention K’s own quick shooting. He rattled off his reasons to Shepard, trying to ignore the way she watched him blunder through, her small smile quirked, her head tilted, resting on her hand. Finally, he said with a pout how it all got so lonely when it was just him out front on his own with Shepard and Garrus on his six.

“All right. We’ll give it a go.”

“Really?” He couldn’t believe she’d agree to this.

“But any bitching and you’re on the sidelines, you hear me, Lieutenant?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. We’ll talk more later. Now I really have to get back.”

They caught the elevator back together, Shepard silent and James lost to his own thoughts of him, Kaidan, and Shepard charging through the galaxy, chucking grenades around and ripping people apart with electric blue light.

The doors opened on Deck 2 but Shepard paused in the door.

“Hey, James. Thanks. And if I’m not out of here by nineteen hundred, you think you could cause another distraction, give me a reason to get these asses off my ship?”

James chuckled. “Anything for you, Lola.” And he meant it.

 


End file.
